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Sngltti) &ej>tfttt& ™ 

JOSEPH ADDISON, 

Criticism 

on 

MILTON's 

Paradise Lost. 

From '/The Spectator.' 
31 December, 171 1 — 3 May, S JJ 12. 



CAREFULLY EDITED BY 

EDWARD ARBER ? 

Affociate, Rings College, London, F.S.A., F.R.G.S., &°c. 



LONDON : 
$ "QUEEN SQUARE, BI.OOMSBURY, W.C. 

Ent. Stat. Hall.] I Auguft, 1 863. {Ail Rights refer ved 



wtWgr^h 



CONTENTS. V 

John Milton's public felf-dedication to the competi- 
tion of a great English Epic, ..... 3 



Introduction, 



5 



Bibliography, 8 

CRITICISM ON MIL TON'S PARADISE L OST 9 

[Note on the early iffues of The Spectator] . ■ . 10 

No. 262, Announcement of the Milton papers . . 11 

i. a general idea of the graces and imperfections 
of ' Paradise Lost.' 

No. 267* The Fable, perfect or imperfect according to the 

Action, which mufhbe One, Entire, and Great . 15 

273, The Characters of Homer, Virgil, and Milton 
compared. Allegorical characters not proper to 
an Epic 21 

279. The Sentiments muft be both natural and fub- 

lime. The only piece of pleafantry in Paradife Lq/i 26 

285. The Language mould be both perfpicuous and 

fublime. How a fublime ftyle may be formed . 32 

291. Qualities of true and falfe Critics 39 

297« The Defects. The Fable is unhappy, its hero 
unfuccefsful, and it has too many digreffions. 
The Allegorical perfons in the Characters. The 
Sentiments fometimes degenerate into puns ; have 
too frequent allufions to heathen fables as true ; 
and very frequently difplayunneceffary oftentation 
of Learning. The Language is often too obfeure, 
jingling, and technical 43 

II. Beauties in the several Books. 

303. Book 1 50 

309. Book II 59 

315. Book III 67 

321. Book IV. . 75 

327. BookV 84 

333. Book VI. . 92 

339. Book VII 101 

345. Book VIII. 109 

351. Book IX. 117 

357. BookX. . 126 

363. Book XI 136 

369. Book XII . 145 



John Milton's public self-dedication to the composi- 
tion OF A GREAT ENGLISH EPIC 

About Feb. 1642, Milton, set 32, in his third contribution to the Smec- 
tymnuus controversy, The Reason of Church- government urg'd against 
Prelatry, to show how little delight he had in that which he believed ' God 
by his Secretary conscience injcyned' upon him therein; he thus magni- 
ficently announces his self-dedication to the magnificent purpose of writing 
a great Epic in his mother tongue. 

"I should not chuse this manner of writing wherein knowingmy self inferiorto 
my self, led by the genial power of nature to another task, I have the use, as I 
may account it, but of my left hand. And though I shall be foolish in saying more 
to this purpose, yet since it will be such a folly as wisest men going abou i to com- 
mit, have only confest and so committed, I may trust with more reason, because 
with more folly to have courteous pardon. For although a Poet soaring in the 
high region 'of his fancies with his garland and singing robes about him 
might without apology speak more of himself then I mean to do, yet for 
me sitting here below in the cool element of prose, a mortall thing among 
many readers of no Empyreall conceit, to venture and divulge unusual things 
of my selfe, I shall petition to the gentler sort, it may not be envy to me. 
I must say therefore that after I had from my first yeeres by the ceaselesse 
diligence and care of my father, whom God recompence, bin exercis'd to 
the tongues, and some sciences, as my age would suffer, by sundry masters 
and teachers both at home and' at the schools, it was found that whether 
ought was impos'd me by them that had the overlooking, or betak'n to of 
mine own choise in English, or other tongue, prosing and versing, but 
chiefly this latter, the stile by certain vital signes it had, was likely to live. 
But much latelier in the privat Academies of Italy, whither I was favor' d to 
resort, perceiving that some trifles which I had in memory, compos' d at 
under twenty or thereabout (for the manner is that every one must give 
some proof of his wit and reading there) met with acceptance above what 
was lookt for, and other things which I had shifted in scarsity of books and 
conveniences to patch up amongst them, were receiv'd with written Enco- 
miums, which the Italian is not forward to bestow on men of this side the 
Alps. I began thus farre to assent both to them and divers of my friends 
here at home, and not lesse to an inward prompting which now grew daily 
upon me, that by labour and intent study (which I take to be my portion in 
this life) joyn'd with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave 
something so written to aftertimes, as they should not willingly let it die. 
These thoughts at once possest me, and these other. That if / were certain 
to write as men buy Leases, for three lives and downward, there ought no 
regard be sooner had, then to Gods glory by the honour and instruction of 
my country. For which cause, and not only for that I knew it would be 
hard to arrive at the second rank among the Latines, / apply'd my selfe to 
that resolution which Ariosto follow'd against the perswasions of Bembo, to 
fix all the industry and art I could unite to the adorning of my native tongue ; 
not to make verbal curiosities the end, that were a toylsom vanity, but to be 
, an interpreter and relater of the best and sagest things among mine own 
Citizens throughout this Hand in the mother dialect. That what the greatest 
and choycest wits of Athens, Rome, or modern Italy, and those Hebrews ot 
old did for their country, I in my proportion with this over and above of 
being a Christian, might doe for mine : not caring to be once nam'd abroad, 
though perhaps I could attaine to that, but content with these British Hands 
as my world, whose fortune hath hitherto bin, that if the Athenians, as some 
say, made their small deeds great and renowned by their eloquent writers, 
England hath had her noble atchievments made small by the unskilfull 
handling of monks and mecbanicks. 

Time servs not now, and perhaps I might seem too profuse to give any 
certain account of what the mind at home in the spacious circuits of her 
musing hath liberty to propose to her self, though of highest hope, and hardest 
attempting, whether that Epick form whereof the two poems of Homer, and 
those other two of Virgil vnA Tasso are a diffuse, and the book of lob a brief 
model : or whether the rules of Aristotle herein are strictly to be kept, or 
nature to be follow'd, which in them that know art, and use judgement is no 
transgression, but an inrich'mg of art. ^ And lastly what King or Knight 
before the conquest might be chosen ic whom to lay the pattern of a Chris- 



4 

tian Heroe. And as Tasso gave to a Prince of Italy his chois whether he 
would command him to write of Godfreys expedition against the infidels, or 
Belisarius against the Gothes, or Charlemaiu against the Lombards ; if to 
the instinct of nature and the imboldning of art ought may be trusted, and 
that there be nothing advers in our climat, or the fate of this age, it haply 
would be no rashnesse from an equal diligence and inclination to present the 
like offer in our own ancient stories. Or whether those Dramatick constitutions, 
wherein Sophocles and Euripides raigne shall be found more doctrinal and 
exemplary to a Nation, the Scripture also affords us a divine pastoral Drama 
in the Song of Salomon consisting of two persons and a double Chorus, as 
Origen rightly judges. And the Apocalyps of Saint John is the majestick 
image of a high and stately Tragedy, shutting up and intermingling her 
solemn Scenes and Acts with a sevenfold Chorus of halleluja's and harping 
symphonies : and this my opinion the grave autority of Pareus commenting 
that booke is sufficient to confirm. _ Or if occasion shall lead to imitat those 
magnifick Odes and Hymns wherein Pindarus and Callimachtis are in most 
things worthy, some others in their frame judicious, in their matter most an end 
faulty: But those frequent songs throughout the law and prophets beyond all 
these, not in their divine argument alone, but in the very critical art of compo- 
sition may be easily made appear over all kinds of Lyrick poesy, to be incompar- 
able. These abilities, wheresoever they be found, are the inspired guift of God 
rarely bestow'd, but yet to some (though most abuse) in every Nation : and 
are of power beside the office of a pulpit, to inbreed and cherish in a great 
people the seeds of vertu, and publick civility, to allay the pertubations of the 
mind, and set the affections in right tune, to celebrate in glorious and lofty 
Hymns the throne and equipage of Gods Almightinesse, and what he works, 
and what he suffers to be wrought with high providence in his Church, to 
sing the victorious agonies of Martyrs and Saints, the deeds and triumphs of 
just and pious Nations doing valiantly through faith against the enemies of 
Christ, to deplore the general relapses of Kingdoms and States from justice 
and Gods true worship. Lastly, whatsoever in religion is holy and sublime, 
in vertu aimable, or grave, whatsoever hath passion or admiration in all the 
changes of that which is call'd fortune from without, or the wily suttleties and 
refluxes of mans thoughts from within, all these things with a solid and treat- 
able smoothnesse to paint out and describe. Teaching over the whole book 
of sanctity and vertu through all the instances of example with such delight 
to those especially of soft and delicious temper who will not so much as look 
upon Truth herselfe, unlesse they see her elegantly drest, that whereas the 
paths of honesty and good life appear now rugged and difficult, though they 
be indeed easy and pleasant, they would then appeare to all men both easy and 
pleasant though they were rugged and difficult indeed. . . . The thing which I 
had to say, and those intentions which have liv'd within me ever since I could 
conceiv my self any thing worth to my Countrie, I return to crave excuse 
that urgent reason hath pluckt from me by an abortive and foredated dis- 
covery. And the accomplishment of them lies not but in a power above mans 
to promise ; but that none hath by more studious ways endeavour'd, and with 
more unwearied spirit that none shall, that I dare almost averre of my self, 
as farre as life and free leasure will extend, and that the Land had onceinfran- 
chis'd her self from this impertinent yoke of prelatry, under whose inquisi- 
torious and tyrannical duncery no free and splendid wit can flourish. Neither 
doe I think it shame to covnant with any knowing reader, that for some few 
yeers yet I may go on trust with him toward the payment of what I am 
now indebted, as being a work not to be rays'd from the heat of youth, or 
the vapours of wine, like that which flows at wast from the pen of some 
vulgar Amorist, or the trencher fury of a riming parasite, not to be obtain' d 
by the invocation of Dame Memory and her Siren daughters, but by de- 
vout prayer to that eternall Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and 
knowledge, and sends out his Seraphim with the hallow'd fire of his Altar 
to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleases : to this must be added in- 
dustrious and select reading, steddy observation, insight into all seemly and 
generous arts and affaires, till which in some measure be compast, at mine 
own peril and cost I refuse not to sustain this expectation from as many as 
are not loath to hazard so much credulity upon the best pledges that I can 
give them.—-//. 37—41. Ed. 1641. 



Criticism on ' Paradise Lost/ 



INTR OD UCTION. 




j|N the ordinary courfe of writing for The 
Spectator \ Addifon determined upon a fum- 
mary expofition otParadife Loft; intending 
in fome four or half a dozen papers, ' to 
give a general Idea of its Graces and Im- 
perfection s.' Though his fubjec~l was a recent mafter- 
work, it was then comparatively unknown and certainly 
inadequately appreciated. Addifon's purpofe was to 
make Milton's great Epic popular. His fenfe of the 
indifference and prejudices to be overcome, may be 
gathered, not only from his, at firft, guarded and argued 
praife of Milton; his large comparative criticifm of 
Homer and Virgil, as if to make Milton the more 
acceptable ; but alfo from his announcement, fee page 
25 : where, under the cover of a Commentary on the 
great and acceptedly-great name of Ariftotle, he en- 
deavours to get a hearing for the unknown Milton. 

In accordance with this intention, at the clofe of his 
fixth paper,f Addifon announces the termination of the 
criticifm on the following Saturday. Theeffays, however, 
had met with an unexpected fuccefs. So that their author 
— the fubje6l growing eafily under his hand — was in- 
duced, inftead of offering famples of the Beauties of the 
poem, in one effay, to give a feparate paper to thofe in 
each of the twelve books of Paradife Loft. His caution 
however prevented him even then, from announcing 
his frefh purpofe, until he was well on in his work; 
entering upon the confideration of the Fourth Book.§ 

Thefe conditions of production not only mow the 
tentativenefs of the criticifm, but account in part for 
the treatment of the fubject. In particular, for the 
repetition in expanded form in its later effays, of 
arguments, opinions, &c, epitomized in the earlier 

+ P. 49- § P- 73- 



6 Introduftion. 

ones. As, for inftance ; the impropriety of Allegory in 
Epic poetry. 

Before the appearance of the lad of the Milton papers, 
Volume IV. of the fecond (firft collected) edition of 
The Spcclator, which included the firft ten effays, had 
probably been delivered to its fubferibers. The text of 
this edition fhowsconfiderable additions and corrections. 
So that Addifon was reviling the earlier, poffibly before 
he had written the later of thefe papers. The eight laft 
papers formed part of Volume V. of the fecond edition, 
which was publifhed in the following year, 17 13. 

Subfequently — in the Author's lifetime — at lead one 
important addition was made to the textf; but the 
fcarcity of early editions of The Spettatorhas prevented 
any further collation. In this way the growing text grew 
into final form : that in which it has come down to us. 

In the prefent work, the text is that of the original 
iffue, in folio. The variations and additions of the 
fecond edition, in Svo, are inferted between [ ]. Words 
in the firft, omitted in the fecond edition are diftin- 
guithed by having * affixed to them. Subfequent addi- 
tions are inferted between { }; which alfo contain the 
Englifh transitions of the mottoes. Thefe have been 
verified with thofe in the earlieft edition in which I 
have found them, that of 1744. The reader can there- 
fore watch not only the expanfion of the criticifm, but 
Addifon's method of correcting his work. 

Thefe papers do not embody the writer's entire mind 
on the fubjecl. Limited as he was in time, to a week ; 
in fpace, to the three or four columns of the Saturday 
folio : he was ftill more limited by the capacity, tafte, 
and patience of his readers. Addifon fhows not a little 
art in the way in which, meting out his thought with 
the meafure of his readers' minds, he endeavours rather 
to awaken them from indifference than to exprefs his 
complete obfervations. The whole four months' leffon 

+ PP- 54, 55- 



Introduction. 7 

incriticifm muflbe apprehended, as much with reference 
to thofe he was teaching to difcriminate and appreciate, 
as to the fettered expreffion of the critic's own opinion. 

The accepted flandards in Epic poetry were Homer 
and Virgil. All that Addifon tries to do is to per- 
fuade his countrymen to put Milton by their fide. 

Paganifm could not furnifh out a real Action for a Fable 
greater than that of the Iliad or ALneid, and therefore an 
Heathen could not form a higher Notion of a Poem than one 
of that kind, which they call an Heroic. Whether Miltorfs is 
not of a fublimer Nature I will not prefume to determine, it is 
fufncient that I mew there is in Paradife Loft all the Greatnefs 
of Plan, Regularity of Defign, and mafterly Beauties which we 
difcover in Homer and Virgil, f 

Poffibly it is owing to the then abfence of an equal 
acknowledgment in England of Dante, Addifon's con- 
fequent limitation of purpofe, and the conditions of the 
production of this criticifm, that there is no recogni- 
tion therein of the great Italian Epic poet. 

Thefe papers conftitute a Primer to Paradife Loft. 
Moil fkilfully conftructed both to intereft and inftrucl:, 
but Hill a Primer. As the excellent fetting may the 
better difplay the gem of incalculable value : fo may 
Addifon's thought help us to underftand Milton's 
6 greatnefs of Soul, which furniihed him with fuch 
glorious Conceptions.' Let us not flop at the Primer, 
but pafs on to a perfonal apprehenfion of the great 
Englifh Epic ; in the perfuafion, that in no fpeech 
under heaven, is there a poem of more Sublimity, 
Delight, and Inftruction than that which Milton was 
maturing for a quarter of a century : and that there 
is nothing human more wonderful and at the fame 
time more true, than thofe vifions of 'the whole 
System of the intellectual World, the Chaos and the 
Creation ; Heaven, Earth, and Hell ' over which — in 
the deep darknefs of his blindnefs — Milton's fpirit 
fo long brooded, and which at length he revealed to 
Earth in his ailoniihing Poem. 

+ P-4S- 



BIBLIOGRAPHY. 
Addison's criticism on milton's * paradise lost.* 

* Editions not seen. 

The various editions of The Spectator are omitted, for want of space, 
because the scarcity of its early issues, prevents an exact list being given. 
See note on the three earliest issues, at p. 10. 

(a) Issues in tfce author's lifetime. 

I. As a separate publication. 

I719. London. Notes on the Twelve Books of Paradise Lost, Col- 

1 vol. i2mo. lected from the Spectator. Written by Mr. Addison. 

(b) Issues since ilje author's Ucatf). 

I. As a sepa ra te publica Hon . 
English Reprints: see title at p. z. 

1 1 . With other works. 

Addison's works [Ed : with Life by T. Tickell.] The 
criticism occupies iii. 268-382. 

Baskeruille edition. Addison's works. The criticism 
occupies iii. 246-355. 

A familiar Exposition of the Poetical Works of 
Milton. To which is prefixed Mr. Addison's Criticism 
on ' Paradise Lost.' With a preface by the Rev. Mr. 
Dodd. The criticism occupies pp. 1 — 144. 
*I790. Edinburgh. Papers in the Tatler, Spectator, Guardian, and Free- 

4 vols. 8vo. holder, together with his Treatise on the Christian Re- 
ligion, &c. Watt. 
z8oi. London. The Poetical works of John Milton. Ed. by Rev. 

6 vols. 8vo. H.J. Todd, M.A. The criticism occupies i. 24-194. 

1804. London. Selections from the Spectator, Tatler, Guardian, and 

3 vols. 8vo. Freeholder. With a preliminary Essay by Anna 

L/EtitiaBarbauld. The criticism occupies ii.38 — 170. 

1804. London. Addison's works. Collected by Mr. Tickell. The 

6 vols. 8vo. criticism occupies ii. 83-221. 
z8n. London. Addison's works. With notes by Bp. HuRD. The 

6 vols. 8vo. criticism occupies iv. 78-20S. 

1819. London. Second edition of No. 6. The criticism occupies 1. 

7 vols. 8vo. 1-153. 

Z826. London. Third edition of No. 6. The criticism, without quota- 

6 vols. 8vo. tions, occupies ii. vii.-xcviii. 
Z849. London. A new edition of No. 7. The criticism occupies 

2 vols. 8vo. ii. 169 — 184. 

1856. New York. Addison's works. Ed. by G.W. Greene. The criticism 

6 vols. 8vo. occupies vi. 24-168. 
1856. London. Bohris British Classics. Addison's works. A new 

6 vols. 8vo. edition of No. 9. The criticism occupies iii. 170-283. 



1 Aug. 
1868. 


London. 
1 vol. 8vo. 


1721. 

1761. 


London. 

4 vols. 4to. 
Birmingham. 


Z762. 


4 vols. 4to. 
London, 
z vol. 8vo. 




Joseph Addison 

CRITICISM 

ON 

Milton's 
PARADISE LOST. 

From 'The Spectator.' 



Three Poets, in three dijlant Ages born, 
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn. 
The Firfl in loftinejs of thought Surpafs'd, 
The Next in Majejly ; in both the Laft. 
The force of Nature cou'd no farther goe : 
To make a Third fhejoynd the former two, 

Dryden. Under Milton's pidlure in Tonfon's folio 
(the fourth) edition of Paradife Loji^ 6°c. 1688. 




NOTE ON THE EARLY ISSUES OF ' THE SPECTATOR.' 
f 1711. No. i of The Spectator appears 'To be Continued every Day.' 
Mar,, i. It is a foolscap folio, printed in two columns on each of its 
two pages ; advertisements occupying the greater part of the 
fourth column. The serial continues for ninety-three weeks. 
June i. No. 80 appears. 
_; ( Tune 2. No. 81 appears. 
•-« Vbept. 13. No. 169 appears. 

Sept. 14. No. 170 appears. 

Nov. 20. No. 227 has the following announcement. " There is now 
Printing by Subscription two Volumes of the SPECTATORS 

2ntJ l£tt. on a large character in Octavo ; the Price of the two Vols, well 
Bound and Gilt two Guineas. Those who are inclined to Subscribe, 
are desired to make their first Payments to Jacob Tonson, Book- 
seller in the Strand ; the Books being so near finished, that they 
will be ready for the Subscribers ator before Christmas next." 
yDec. 18. No. 251 appears. 
' 19. No. 252 appears. 

31. No. 262. The papers on Milton are announced. 
1712. 

Jan. $. No. 267. The first paper on Paradise Lost appears. 

8. No. 269 has this announcement. "The First and Second 
Volumes of the Spectator in 8vo are now ready to be de- 

2n& £&. livered to the Subscribers, by J. Tonson at Shakespear's Head 
over-against Catherine-street in the Strand." 

Jan. 12. No. 273. The second Milton paper appears. 

18. No. 278 advertises "This Day is Published, A very neat 
Pocket Edition of the Spectator, in 2 Vols. 12 . Printed for 

3*11 i£H. Sam. Buckley at the Dolphin in Little-Britain, and J. Tonson at 

Shakespear's Head over-against Catherine-street in the Strand." 

^Jan. 19 — Mar. 8. Eight more papers on Paradise Lost appear. 

f There is no announcement in the Original issue, when Vols. 

Ill and IV were ready for delivery to the subscribers of the first 

2titJ !£&• two, of which they were issued, with an Index, as a com- 
pletion. Vol. Ill contains a List of the subscribers to the 
second edition of these earlier numbers of The Spectator. The 
list contains 402 names, including a large proportion of aristocratic 
titles ; and amongother the names of Sir Isaac Newton, SirRichard 

April? Blackmore, &c. The probability is that as the subscribers would 
naturally complete their sets, the reprinting would go ona little in 
arrear of the Original issue, and that these volumes were delivered 
some time in April. The 4 volumes apparently realized ^1,608. 

Aug. f. 10. Annce, c. 18 comes into force. It imposes a Stamp duty 
of an Halfpenny upon every Pamphlet or Paper contained in 
Half a Sheet, and One Shilling upon every printed advertise- 
ment. — Statutes \x. 617. This stamp is still seen on many copies, 

Nov.it. No. $33 advertises "This Day is Publish'd, A very neat 

3r& i£U. Pocket edition of the 3d and 4th Volumes of the Spectator in I2 0, 
To which is added a compleat Index to the whole 4 Volumes. &c." 

Dec. 6. No £$<;, Steele announcing, in his own name, the conclusion 
of the series, states, "I have nothing more to add, but having 
swelled this Work to $$$ Papers, they will be disposed into 

2ntJ lEtt. seven Volumes, four of which are already publish'd, and the 
three others in the Press. It will not be demanded of me why 
I now leave off, tho' I must own my self obliged to give an Account 
to the Town of my Time hereafter, since I retire when their Par- 
tiality to me is so great, that an Edition of the former Volumes of 
Spectators of above Nine thousand each Book is already sold off, 
and the Tax on each half Sheet has brought into the Stamp- 
Office one Week with another above 20/. a Week arising from this 
single Paper, notwithstanding it at first reduced it to less than 
half the number that was usually Printed before this Tax was 

V laid." He is evidently referring to the original daily issues. 

Two years later, The Spectator was revived for about six months. 
VIII. 1714. June 18 — Dec, 20. Nos 5^6-635 are published. 
Six hundred and thirty-five papers constitute 'The Spectator.' 



U 




Numb. CCLXIL 

The SPECTATOR. 

Nulla venenato Littera miffa Joco e/l. Ov. 

{Satirical Reflexions I avoid. ' 

Another translation. 

My paper flows from no fatiric vein. 

Contains no poifon 9 and conveys no pain. Adapted} 

Monday, December 31. 1 7 1 1. 

Think my felf highly obliged to the Publick for 
their kind Acceptance of a Paper which vifits 
them every Morning, and has in it none of 
thofe Seafonings thatrecommend fo many of 
the Writings which are in vogue among us. 
As, on the one Side, my Paper has not in it a fmgle 
Word of News, a Reflection in Politicks, nor a Stroke 
of Party; fo, on the other, there are no fafhionable 
Touches of Infidelity, no obfcene Ideas, no Satyrs 
upon Priefthood, Marriage, and the like popular 
Topicks of Ridicule; no private Scandal, nor any 
thing that may tend to the Defamation of particular 
Perfons, Families, or Societies. 

There is not one of thefe abovementioned Sub- 
jects that would not fell a very indifferent Paper, 
could I think of gratifying the Publick by fuch mean 
and bafe Methods : But notwithftanding I have re- 
jected every thing that favours of Party, every thing 
that is loofe and immoral, and every thing that might 
create Uneafmefs in the Minds of particular Perfons, 
I find that the Demand for my Papers has encreafed 
every Month fmce their firft Appearance in the World. 
This does not perhaps reflect fo much Honour upon 
my felf, as on my Readers, who give a much greater 
Attention, to Difcourfes of Virtue and Morality, than 
ever I expected, or indeed could hope. 



12 THE SPECTATOR EXPRESSES HIS SATISFACTION 

When I broke loofe from that great Body of Writers 
who have employed their Wit and Parts in propagating 
Vice and Irreligion, I did not queftionbut I mould be 
treated as an odd kind of Fellow that had a Mind to 
appear fmgular in my Way of Writing : But the general 
Reception I have found, convinces me that the World 
is not fo corrupt as we are apt to imagine ; and that 
if thofe Men of Parts who have been employed in 
viciating the Age had endeavoured to rectify and 
amend it, they needed not to have facrificed their 
good Senfe and Virtue to their Fame and Reputation. 
No Man is fo funk in Vice and Ignorance, but there 
are flill fome hidden Seeds of Goodnefs and Know- 
ledge in him ; which give him a Relifh of fuch Reflec- 
tions and Speculations as have an Aptnefs in* them* 
to improve the Mind and to make the Heart better. 

I have fhewn in a former Paper, with how much 
Care I have avoided all fuch Thoughts as are loofe, 
obfcene, or immoral ; and I believe my Reader would 
Hill think the better of me, if he knew the Pains I am 
at in qualifying what I write after fuch a Manner, that 
nothing may be interpreted as aimed at private Per- 
fons. For this Reafon when I draw any faulty 
Character, I confider all thofe Perfons to whom the 
Malice of the World may poffibly apply it, and take 
care to dam it with fuch particular Circumftances as 
may prevent all fuch ill-natured Applications. If I 
write any thing on a black Man, I run over in my Mind 
all the eminent Perfons in the Nation who are of that 
Completion : When I place an imaginary Name at- 
the Head of a Character, I examine every Syllable 
and Letter of it, that it may not bear any Refemblance 
to one that is real. I know very well the Value which 
every Man fets upon his Reputation, and how painful 
it is to be expofed to the Mirth and Derifion of the 
Publick, and fhould therefore fcorn to divert my 
Reader at the Expence of any private Man. 

As I have been thus tender of every particular 
Perfon's Reputation, fo I have taken more than ordi- 



AT THE RECEPTION OF HIS PAPERS. 13 

nary Care not to give Offence to thofe who appear in 
the higher Figures of Life, I would not make my felf 
merry even with a Piece of Pafleboard that is invefted 
with a publick Character; for which Reafon I have 
never glanced upon the late defigned Proceffion of his 
Holinefs and his Attendants, notwithflanding it might 
have afforded Matter to many ludicrous Speculations. 
Among thofe Advantages which the Publick may reap 
from this Paper, it is not the leaft, that it draws v Mens 
Minds off from the Bittern efs of Party, and furnifhes 
them with Subjects of Difcourfe that may be treated 
without Warmth or Paffion. This is faid to have been 
the firft Defign of thofe Gentlemen who fet on Foot 
the Royal Society ; and had then a very good Effect, 
as it turned many of the greateft Genius's of that Age 
to the Difquifitions of natural Knowledge, who, if they 
had engaged in Politicks with the fame Parts and 
Application, might have fet their Country in a Flame. 
The Air-Pump, the Barometer, the Quadrant, and the 
like Inventions, were thrown out to thofe bufy Spirits, 
as Tubs and Barrels are to a Whale, that he may let 
the Ship fail on without Difturbance, while he diverts 
himfelf with thofe innocent Amufements. 

I have been fo very fcrupulous in this Particular of 
not hurting any Man's Reputation, that I have for- 
born mentioning even fuch Authors as I could not 
name with Honour. This I muft confefs to have been 
a Piece of very great Self-denial : For as the Publick 
relifhes nothing better than the Ridicule which turns 
upon a Writer of any Eminence, fo there is nothing 
which a Man that has but a very ordinary Talent in 
Ridicule may execute with greater Eafe. One might 
raife Laughter for a Quarter of a Year together upon 
the Works of a Perfon who has publifhed but a very 
few Volumes. For which Reafons I am aftonifhed, 
that thofe who have appeared againfl this Paper have 
made fo very little of it. The Criticifms which I have 
hitherto publifhed, have been made with an Intention 
rather tc difcover Beauties and Excellencies in the 



14 ANNOUNCEMENT OF PAPERS ON ' PARADISE LOST. 

Writers of my own Time, than to publifh any of their 
Faults and Imperfections. In the meanwhile I mould 
take it for a very great Favour from fome of my under- 
hand Detractors, if they would break all Meafures 
with me fo far, as to give me a Pretence for examin- 
ing their Performances with an impartial Eye : Nor 
mail I look upon it as any Breach of Charity 
to criticife the Author, fo long as I keep clear 
Of the Perfon. 

In the mean while, till I am provoked to fuch 
Hoftilities, I fhall from Time to Time endeavour to do 
Juftice to thofe who have diftinguifhed themfelves in 
the politer Parts of Learning, and to point out fuch 
Beauties in their Works as may have efcaped the Ob- 
fervation of others. 

As the firft Place among our EngliJJi Poets is due 
to Milt 011 , and as I have drawn more Quotations out 
of him than from any other, I fhall enter into a regular 
Criticifm upon his Paradife lofl, which I fhall publifh 
every Saturday till I have given my Thoughts upon 
that Poem. I fhall not however prefume to impofe 
upon others my own particular Judgment on this Author, 
but only deliver it as my private Opinion. Criticifm 
is of a very large Extent, and every particular Mailer 
in this Art has his favourite Paffages in an Author, 
which do not equally flrike the beft Judges. It will 
be fufficient for me if I difcover many Beauties or 
Imperfections which others have not attended to, and 
I mould be very glad to fee any of our eminent Writers 
publifh their Difcoveries on the fame Subject. In 
fhort, I would always be underftood to write my 
Papers of Criticifm in the Spirit which Horace has 
expreffed in thofe two famous Lines, 

Si quid novifti reffius iflis 

Candidus imperti, fi non his utere mecum. 

If you have made any better Remarks of your own, 
communicate them with Candour ; if not, make ufe 
of thefe I prefent you with. 



Numb. CCLXVII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

Cedite Romani Script ores, cedite Graii. Propert. 

{ Give place, ye Roman, and ye Grecian Wits. } 



Saturday \ January ', 5. 1712. 






HERE is nothing in Nature fo irkfom[e] 
as general Difcourfes, efpecially when 
they turn chiefly upon Words. For this 
Reafon I Ihall wave the Difcufiion of that 
Point which was flarted fome Years fmce, 
Whether Milton's Paradife Loft may be called an 
Heroick Poem ? Thofe who will not give it that Title, 
may call it (if they pleafe) a -Divine Poem. It will be 
fufficient to its Perfection, if it has in it all the Beau- 
ties of the higheft kind of Poetry ; and as for thofe 
who fay [alledge] it is not an Heroick Poem, they 
advance no more to the Diminution of it, than if they 
mould fay Adam is not A?7teas, nor Eve Helen. 

I fhall therefore examine it by the Rules of Epic 
Poetry, and fee whether it falls fhort of the Iliad or 
ALneid, in the Beauties which are effential to that 
kind of Writing. The firft Thing to be confidered 
in an Epic Poem, is the Fable, which is perfect or 
imperfect:, according as the Action which it relates 
is more or lefs fo. This Action mould have three 
Qualifications in it. Firft, It mould be but one 
Action. Secondly, It mould be an entire Action; 
and Thirdly, It mould be a great Action. To con- 
fider the Action of the Iliad, ALneid, and Paradife 
Loft in thefe three feveral Lights. Homer to pre- 
ferve the Unity of his Action haftens into the midft 
of things, as Horace has obferved : Had he gone up 



1 6 THE FABLE PERFECT OR IMPERFECT AS IS THE ACTION. 

to ledds Egg, or begun much later, even at the Rape 
of Helen, or the Inverting of Troy, it is manifeil that 
the Story of the Poem would have been a Series of 
feveral Actions. He therefore opens his Poem with the 
Difcord of his Princes, and with great Art interweaves 
in the feveral fucceeding parts of it, an account of every 
thing [material] which relates to the Story [them], and 
had paffed before that fatal Diffenfion. After the fame 
manner /Eneas makes his firft appearance in the 
Tyrrhene Seas, and within fight of Italy, becaufe the 
Action propofed to be celebrated was that of his 
Settling himfelf in latium. But becaufe it was necef- 
fary for the Reader to know what had happened to 
him in the taking of Troy, and in the preceding parts 
of his Voyage, Virgil makes his Hero relate it by 
way of Epifode in the fecond and third Books of the 
sEneid. The Contents of both which Books come be- 
fore thofe of the firft Book in the Thread of the Story, 
tho' for preferving of this Unity of Action, they follow 
them in the Difpofition of the Poem. Milton, in Imita- 
tion of thefe two great Poets, opens his Paradife Lo/t 
with an Infernal Council plotting the Fall of Man, 
which is the Action he propofed to celebrate ; and as 
for thofe great Actions, which preceded in point oi 
time, the Battel of the Angels, and the Creation oi 
the World, (which would have entirely deftroyed the 
Unity of his Principal Action, had he related them in 
the fame Order that they happened) he cafl them into 
the fifth, fixth and feventh Books, by way of Epifode 
to this noble Poem. 

Ariftotle himfelf allows, that Homer has nothing to 
boaft of as to the Unity of his Fable, tho' at the fame 
time that great Critick and Philofopher endeavours 
to palliate this Imperfection in the Greek Poet, b) 
imputing it in fome Meafure to the very Nature of an 
Epic Poem. Some have been of Opinion, that the 
sEneid labours alfo in this particular, and has Epifodes 
which may be looked upon as Excrefcencies rathei 
than as Parts of the Action. On the contrary, th< 



THE ACTION MUST BE ONE, ENTIRE, AND GREAT. 1 7 

Poem which we have now under our Confideration, 
hath no other Epifodes than fuch as naturally arife 
from the Subject, and yet is filled with fuch a multi- 
tude of aflonifhing Circumflances [Incidents], that it 
gives us at the fame time a Pleafure of the greatefl 
Variety, and of the greatefl Simplicity, {uniform in its 
Nature, though diverfified in the Execution.} 

I mull obferve alfo, that as Virgil in the Poem which 
was defigned to celebrate the Original of the Roman 
Empire, has defcribed the Birth of its great Rival, the 
Carthaginian Commonwealth. Milton with the like 
Art in his Poem on the Fall of Man, has related the 
Fall of thofe Angels who are his profeffed Enemies. 
Befides the many other Beauties in fuch an Epifode, it's 
running Parallel with the great Action of the Poem, hin- 
ders it from breaking the Unity fo much as another Epi- 
fode would have done, that had not fo great an Affinity 
with the principal Subject. In fhort, this is the fame 
kind of Beauty which the Criticks admire in the Spanijh 
Fryar, or the Double Difcovery, where the two different 
Plots look like Counterparts and Copies of one another. 

The fecond Qualification required in the Action 
of an Epic Poem is, that it mould be an entire 
Action : An Action is entire when it is compleat 
in all its Parts ; or as Arijlotle defcribes it, when it 
confifls of a Beginning, a Middle, and an End. 
Nothing mould go before it, be intermixed with it, 
or follow after it, that is not related to it. As on 
the contrary, no fmgle Step mould be omitted in that 
jufl and regular Progrefs [Procefs] which it mufl be fup- 
pofed to take from its Original to its Confummation. 
Thus we fee the Anger of Achilles in its Birth, its 
Continuance and Effects; and jEneafs Settlement 
in Italy, carried on through all the Oppofitions in 
his way to it both by Sea and Land. The Action 
in Milton excels (I think) both the former in 
this particular; we fee it contrived in Hell, exe- 
cuted upon Earth, and punifhed by Heaven. The 
parts of it are told in the mofl diflinct manner, 

B 



1 8 THE ACTION MUST NOT ONLY BE GREAT 

and grow out of one another in the mofl natural 
Method. 

The third Qualification of an Epic Poem is its 
Greatnefs. The Anger of Achilles was of fuch Con- 
fequence, that it embroiled the Kings of Greece^ def- 
troy'd the Heroes of Troy, and engaged all the Gods 
in Factions. JELncas's Settlement in Italy produced 
the Ccrfars, and gave Birth to the Roman Empire. 
Milton's Subject was Hill greater than either of the 
former ; it does not determine the Fate of fingle 
Perfons or Nations, but of a whole Species. The 
united Powers of Hell are joyned together for the 
Deflruction of Mankind, which they effected in part, 
and would have completed, had not Omnipotence 
it felf interpofed. The principal Actors are Man 
in his greateft Perfection, and Woman in her highefl 
Beauty. Their Enemies are the fallen Angels : The 
Meffiah their Friend, and the Almighty their Protector. 
In fhort, every thing that is great in the whole Circle 
of Being, whether within the Verge of Nature, or out 
of it, has a proper Part afligned it in this noble Poem. 

In Poetry, as in Architecture, not only the whole, 
but the principal Members, and every part of them, 
fhould be Great. I will not prefume to fay, that the 
Book of Games in the /Encid, or that in the Iliad, are 
not of this nature, nor to reprehend VirgiPs Simile of 
a Top, and many other of the fame nature in the 
Iliad, as liable to any Cenfure in this Particular ; but 
I think we may fay, without offence to [derogating 
from] thofe wonderful Performances, that there is an 
unqueflionable Magnificence in every Part of Para- 
dife Loft, and indeed a much greater than could have 
been formed upon any Pagan Syftem. 

But Ariftotle, by the Greatnefs of the Action, does 
not only mean that it mould be great in its Nature, 
but alfo in its Duration, or in other Words, that it 
fhould have a due length in it, as well as what we 
properly call Greatnefs. The jult Meafure of this 
kind of Magnitude, he explains by the following 



IN ITS NATURE, BUT IN ITS DURATION. 19 

Similitude. An Animal, no bigger than a Mite, can- 
not appear perfect to the Eye, becaufe the Sight takes 
it in at once, and has only a confufed Idea of the 
whole, and not a diflinct Idea of all its Parts ; If on 
the contrary you mould fuppofe an Animal of ten 
thoufand Furlongs in length, the Eye would be fo 
filled with a fmgle Part of it, that it could not give the 
Mind an Idea of the whole. What thefe Animals 
are to the Eye, a very fhort or a very long Action 
would be to the Memory. The firft would be, as it 
were, loft and fwallowed up by it, and the other 
difficult to be contained in it. Homer and Virgil have 
fhewn their principal Art in this Particular; the Action 
of the Iliad, and that of the sEneid, were in themfelves 
exceeding fhort, but are fo beautifully extended and 
diveriified by the Intervention [Invention] of Efiifodes, 
and the Machinery of Gods, with the like Poetical Orna- 
ments, that they make up an agreeable Story fufficient 
to employ the Memory without overcharging it. Mil- 
ton's Action is enriched with fuch a variety of Cir- 
cumflances, that I have taken as much Pleafure in 
reading the Contents of his Books, as in the belt 
invented Story I ever met with. It is poffible, that 
the Traditions on which the Iliad and ALneid were 
built, had more Circumflances in them than the 
Hiflory of the Fall of Man, as it is related in Scrip- 
ture. Befides it was eafier for Homer and Virgil to 
dafh the Truth with Fiction, as they were in no 
danger of offending the Religion of their Country by 
it. But as for Milton, he had not only a very few 
Circumflances upon which to raife his Poem, but was 
alfo obliged to proceed with the greatefl Caution in 
every thing that he added out of his own Invention. 
And, indeed, notwithftanding all the Reflraints he was 
under, he has filled his Story with fo many furprifing 
Incidents, which bear fo clofe an Analogy with what 
is delivered in Holy Writ, that it is capable of pleafing 
the mofl delicate Reader, without giving Ofience to 
the mofl fcrupulous. 



20 THE ACTION NOT LIMITED TO ANY PARTICULAR TIME. 

Hints in the Iliad and ^neid the Space of Time 
which is taken up by the Adieu of each of tnofe 
Poems ; but as a great Part of Milton's Story was 
tranfacled in Regions that lie out of the reach of thl 
Sun and the Sphere of Day, it is impoffible to grat fie 
the Reader with fuch a Calculation, which indeed 
would be more curious than infinitive; none of the 
Cn ticks, either Ancient or Modern, having laid down 
Rules to circumfcr.be the Aftion of an Epic Poem 
with any determined number of Years, Days, or Hours, f 

This pieee_ of Criticifm on MiltonV Paradife T, a 
JhaU be earned on in following [Saturdays] Papers. 

t Seep. 151. 




Numb. CCLXXIIL 

The SPECTATOR. 

Not audi funt tibi Mores. Hor, 



{Note well the Manners.} 



Saturday, January 12. 1712. 




|AVING examined the Action of Paradife 
Loft, let us in the next place confider the 
Actors. Thefe are what Ariftotle means by 
[This is Ariftotle 's Method of confidering ; 
nrfl] the Fable, and [fecondly] the Man- 
ners, or, as we generally call them in Englifh, the 
Fable and the Characters. 

Homer has excelled all the Heroic Poets that evei 
wrote, in the multitude and variety of his Characters. 
Every God that is admitted into his Poem, acts a 
Part which would have been fuitable to no other 
Deity. His Princes are as much diftinguifhed by 
their Manners as by their Dominions ; and even thofe 
among them, whofe Characters feem wholly made up 
of Courage, differ from one another as to the particu- 
lar kinds of Courage in which they excell. In fhort, 
there is fcarce a Speech or Action in the Iliad, which 
the Reader may not afcribe to the Perfon that fpeaks 
or acts, without feeing his Name at the Head of it. 

Homer does not only out-fhine all other Poets in the 
Variety, but alfo in the Novelty of his Characters. 
He has introduced among his Grcecian Princes a Per- 
fon, who had lived thrice the Age of Man, and con- 
verfed with Thefeus, Hercules, Polyphemus, and the firft 
Race of Heroes. His principal Actor is the Off-fpring 
[Son] of a Goddefs, not to mention the Son [Off- 
fpring] of Aurora [other Deities], who has [have] like- 
wife a Place in his Poem, and the venerable Trojan 
Prince, who was the Father of fo many Kings and 
Heroes. There is jn thefe feveral Characters of Homer, 



22 CHARACTERS OF HOMER, VIRGIL, AND MILTON COMPARED. 

a certain Dignity as well as Novelty, which adapts them 
in a more peculiar manner to the Nature of an Heroic 
Poem. Tho', at the fame time, to give them the greater 
variety, he has defcribed a Vidcan, that is, a Buffoon 
among his Gods, and a Therfites among his Mortals. 

Virgil falls infinitely fhort of Homer in the Cha- 
racters of his Poem, both as to their Variety and 
Novelty. jEneas is indeed a perfect Character, but 
as for Achates , tho* he is filled the Hero's Friend, he 
does nothing in- the whole Poem which may deferve 
that Title. Gyas, Mnejleus, Serge/las, and Cloanthns, are 
all of them Men of the fame Stamp and Character, 

Fortcmque Gyaii^forteinque Cloanthum [Virg.] 

There are indeed feveral very natural Incidents in 
the Part of Afcanins ; as that of Dido cannot be fuffi- 
ciently admired. I do not fee any thing new or 
particular in Turnus. Pallas and Evander are [remote] 
Copies of Heclor and Priam, as Lanfus and Mezentins 
are almoft Parallels to Pallas and Evander. The 
Characters of Nifus and Eurialus are beautiful, but 
common. [We mult not forget the Parts of Sinon, 
Camilla, and fome few others, which are beautiful 
Improvements on the Greek Poet.] In fhort, there is 
neither that Variety nor Novelty in the Perfons of the 
</Eneid, which we meet with in thofe of the Iliad. 

If we look into the Characters of Milton, we fhall 
find that he has introduced all the Variety that his Poem 
was capable of receiving. The whole Species of 
Mankind was in two Perfons at the time to which 
the Subject of his Poem is confined. We have, how- 
ever, four diflinct Characters in thefe two Perfons. We fee 
Man and Woman in the high eft Innocence and Perfec- 
tion, and in the molt abject State of Guilt and Infirmity. 
The two laft Characters are, indeed, very common and 
obvious, but the two firft are not only more magnificent, 
but more new than any Characters either in Virgil or 
Ho7?ier, or indeed in the whole Circle of Nature. 

Milton was fo fenfible of this Defect in the Subject 
of his Poem, and of the few Characters it would afford 



ALLEGORICAL CHARACTERS NOT PROPER TO AN EPIC. 23 

him, that he has brought into it two Actors of a Shadowy 
and Fictitious Nature, in the Perfons of Sin and Death, 
by which means he has interwoven in the Body of his 
Fable a very beautiful and well invented Allegory. But 
notwithstanding the Finenefs of this Allegory may a- 
tone for it in fome meafure; I cannot think that Perfons 
of fuch a Chymerical Exiflence are proper Actors in an 
Epic Poem ; becaufe there is not that meafure of Pro- 
bability annexed to them, which is requifite in Writings 
of this kind, [as I mail mew more at large hereafter.] 

Virgil has, indeed, admitted Fame as an Actrefs in 
the ALneid, but the Part fhe acts is very fhort, and 
none of the moil admired Circumftances in that 
Divine Work. We find in Mock-Heroic Poems, par- 
ticularly in the Difpenfary and the Lutrin, feveral 
Allegorical Perfons of this Nature, which are very 
beautiful in thofe Compofitions, and may, perhaps, be 
ufed as an Argument, that the Authors of them were 
of Opinion, that* fuch Characters might have a Place in 
an Epic Work. For my own part, I mould be glad the 
Reader would think fo, for the fake of the Poem I 
am now examining, and mufl further add, that if fuch 
empty unfubftantial Beings may be ever made ufe of 
on this occafion, there were never any more nicely 
imagined, and employed in more proper Actions, than 
thofe of which I am now 7 " fpeaking. f 

Another Principal Actor in this Poem is the great 
Enemy of Mankind. The part of Ulyffes in Homer's 
Odyffey is very much admired by Ariftotle, as per- 
plexing that Fable with very agreeable Plots and In- 
tricacies, not only by the many Adventures in his 
Voyage, and the Subtilty of his Behaviour, but by the 
various Concealments and Difcoveries of his Perfon in 
feveral parts of that Poem. But the Crafty Being I 
have now mentioned, makes a much longer Voyage than 
Ulyffes, puts in practice many more Wiles and Strata- 
gems, and hides himfelf under a greater variety of 
Shapes and Appearances, all of which are feverally de- 
tected, to the great Delight and Surprize of the Reader. 

+ See also pp. 45 ; 70-72 ; 133-135. 



24 THE PRINCIPAL ACTORS IN AN EPIC POEM SHOULD 

We may likewife obferve with how much Art the Poet 
has varied feveral Characters of the Perfons that fpeak 
in his infernal Affembly. On the contrary, how has he 
reprefented the whole Godhead exerting it felf towards 
Man in its full Benevolence under the Three-fold Dif- 
tinction of a Creator, a Redeemer and a Comforter ! 

Nor mull we omit the Perfon of Raphael, who 
amidft his Tendernefs and Friendfhip for Man,.fhews 
' fuch a Dignity and Condefcention in all his Speech and 
Behaviour, as are fuitable to a Superior Nature. [The 
Angels are indeed as much diverfified in Milton, and 
diftinguifhed by their proper Parts, as the Gods are in 
Homer or Virgil. The Reader will find nothing afcribed 
to Uriel, Gabriel, Michael, or Raphael, which is not in 
a particular manner fuitable to their refpeclive Cha- 
racters.] 

There is another Circumflance in the principal Actors 
of the Iliad and Hine'ni, which gives a particular [pecu- 
liar] Beauty to thofe two Poems, and was therefore con- 
trived with very great Judgment. I mean the Authors 
having chofen for their Heroes Perfons who were fo 
nearly related to the People for whom they wrote. 
Achilles was a Greek, and Hw/eas the remote Founder 
of Rome. By this means their Countrymen (whom they 
principally propofed to themfelves for their Readers) 
were particularly attentive to all the parts of their Story, 
and fympathized with their Heroes in all their Adven- 
tures. A Roman could not but rejoice in the Efcapes, 
Succeffes and Victories of ALncas, and be grieved at any 
Defeats, Misfortunes, or Difappointments that befel 
him ; as a Greek muft have had the fame regard for 
Achilles. And it is plain, that each of thofe Poems have 
loft this great Advantage, among thofe Readers to whom 
their Heroes are as Strangers, or indifferent Perfons. 

Milton's Poem is admirable in this refpecl, fmce it 
is impoffible for any of its Readers, whatever Nation, 
Country or People he may belong to, not to be re- 
lated to the Perfons who are the principal Actors in 
it ; but what is Hill infinitely more to its Advantage, 
the principal Actors in this Poem are not only our 



BE RELATED TO ITS INTENDED READERS. 2$ 

Progenitors, but our Reprefentatives. We have an 
actual Interefl in every thing they do, and no lefs 
than our utmoft Happinefs or # Mifery* is concerned, 
and lies at Stake in all their Behaviour. 

I fhall fubjoyn as a Corollary to the foregoing Re- 
mark, an admirable Obfervation out of Ari/Iotle, which 
hath been very much mifreprefented in the Quota- 
tions of fome Modern Criticks. 'If a Man of perfect 
' and confummate Virtue falls into a Misfortune, it 
' raifes our Pity, but not our Terror, becaufe we do 
' not fear that it may be our own Cafe, who do 
' not referable the Suffering Perfon. But as that great 
Philofopher adds, i If we fee a Man of Virtues mixt 
' with Infirmities, fall into any Misfortune, it does not 
' only raife our Pity but our Terror; becaufe we are afraid 
' that the like Misfortunes may happen to our felves, 
c who refemble the Character of the Suffering Perfon. 

I fhall take another Opportunity to obferve, that 
a Perfon of an abfolute and confummate Virtue mould 
never be introduced in Tragedy, and fhall only remark 
in this Place, that this [the foregoing] Obfervation ofArif- 
totle,tho> it maybe true in other Occafions, does not hold 
in this ; becaufe in the prefent Cafe, though the Perfons 
who fall into Misfortune are of the moft perfect and con- 
fummate Virtue, it is not to be confidered as what may 
poffibly be, but what actually is our own Cafe; fince 
we are embark'd with them on the fame Bottom, and 
muft be Partakers of their Happinefs or Mifery. 

In this, and fome other very few Inftances, Ariflottis 
Rules for Epic Poetry (which he had drawn from his Re- 
flections upon Homer) cannot be fuppofed to quadrate 
exactly with the Heroic Poems which have been made 
fince his Time; as it is plain his Rules would have been 
Hill more perfect, cou'd he have perufed the ^Efieid 
which was made fome hundred Years after his Death. 

In my next IJliall go through other parts of Milt on V 
Poem ; and hope that what I Jhall there advaiice, as well 
as what I have already written, will not only ferve as a 
Comment upon Milton, but upon Ariflotle. 



Numb. CCLXXIX. 

The SPECTATOR. 

Redder perfenccfc it convcnicntia cuique. Hor 

{He knows what bejl hefts each Charade,:} 



Saturday y January 19. 1712. 




IE have already taken a general Survey of 
the Fable and Characters in Milton's 
Paradtfe Lqft : The Parts which remain to 
be coniidcr'd, according to Arifot/e's 
Method, are the Sentiments and the Lan- 
guage Before I enter upon the firft of thefe, I mufl 
adverse my Reader, that it is my Defign as foon as I 
have finimed my general Refledions on thefe four 
feveral Heads, to give particular Inftances out of the 
Poem which is now before us of Beauties and Im- 
pcrfecTions which may be obferved under each of them 
asalfo of fuch other Particulars as may not properly* 
fall under any of them. This I thought fit to premife! 
that the Reader may not judge too haflil/ of this 
Piece of Cnticifm or look upon it as Imperfect, 
before he has feen the whole Extent of it 

The Sentiments in an [all] Epic Poem are the 
Thoughts and Behaviour which the Author afcribes to 
the Perfons whom he introduces, and are jufl when 
they are conformable to the Characters of the feveral 
Perfons. The Sentiments have likewife a relation to 
T/ungs as well as Perfons, and are then perfeft when 
they are fuch as are adapted to the SubjecT. If in either 
of thefe Cafes the Poet argues, or explains, magnifies 
or dimimfhes, raifes Love or Hatred, Pity or Terror 
or any other Pafiion, we ought to confider whether 

.r''T n " e makes ufe of ^e proper for thefe 
LtJieirJ Ends. Homer is cenfured by the Criticks for 



THE SENTIMENTS MUST BE BOTH NATURAL AND SUBLIME. 2? 

his Defe6l as to this Particular in feveral parts of the 
Iliad and Odyffey, tho' at the fame time thofe who 
have treated this great Poet with Candour, have attri- 
buted this Defect to the Times in which he lived. It 
was the fault of the Age, and not of Homer, if there 
wants that Delicacy in fome of his Sentiments, which 
appears in the Works of Men of a much inferior 
Genius. Befides, if there are Blemifhes in any parti- 
cular Thoughts, there is an infinite Beauty in the 
greateft part of them. In fhort,- if there are many 
Poets who wou'd not have fallen into the mea[n]nefs of 
fome of his Sentiments, there are none who cou'd have 
rife[n] up to the Greatnefs of others. Virgil has ex- 
celled all others in the Propriety of his Sentiments. 
Milton mines likewife very much in this Particular: 
Nor muft we omit one Confideration which adds to 
his Honour and Reputation. Homer and Virgil intro- 
duced Perfons whofe Characters are commonly known 
among Men, and fuch as are to be met with either 
in Hiftory, or in ordinary Converfation. Milfoil's Cha- 
racters, mofl of them, lie out of Nature, and were to 
be formed purely by his own Invention. It fhews a 
greater Genius in Shakefpear to have drawn his Caly- 
ba?i, than his Hotfpur or Julius Ccefar : The one was 
to be fupplied out of his own Imagination, whereas 
the other might have been formed upon Tradition, 
Hiftory and Obfervation. It was much eafier there- 
fore for Homer to find proper Sentiments for an Af- 
fembly of Grecian Generals, than for Milton to di- 
verfifie his Infernal Council with proper Characters, 
and infpire them with a variety of Sentiments. The 
Loves of Dido and ALneas are only Copies of what 
has paffed between other Perfons. Adam and Eve, 
before the Fall, are a different Species from that of 
Mankind, who are defcended from them ; and none 
but a Poet of the mofl unbounded Invention, and the 
mofl exquifite Judgment, cou'd have filled their Con- 
verfation and Behaviour with fuch Beautiful Circum- 
fiances during their State of Innocence. 



23 AFFECTED AND UNNATURAL, MEAN AND 

JSljH 'JL fuffic , ient for a n Epic Poem to be filled 
,r fuch Thoughts as are Natural, unlefs it abound 
alfo with fuch as are Sublime. Virgil in this Particular 
falls fhort of Homer. He has not indeed fo many 
Thoughts that are Low and Vulgar; but at the fame 
time has not fo many Thoughts that are Sublime and 
iMoble The truth of it is, Virgil feldom rifes into 
very anomfhmg Sentiments, where he is not fired 
by the Iliad. He every where charms and pleafes us 
by the force of his own Genius ; but feldom elevates 
and transports us where he does not fetch his Hints 
from Homer. 

Moon's chief Talent, and indeed his diftinguifliing 
Excellence, hes in the Sublimity of his Thoughts! 
There are others of the Moderns who rival him in 
every other part of Poetry ■ but in the greatnefs of 
his Sentiments he triumphs over all the Poets both 
Modern and Ancient, Homer only excepted. It is im- 
pollible for the Imagination of Man to diflend it felf 
with greater Ideas, than thofe which he has laid to- 
gether in his firft, [fecond,] and fixth* [tenth] BookEs]. 
I he feyenth, which defcribes the Creation of the World, 
is likewife wonderfully Sublime, tho' not fo apt to flir 
up Emotion in the Mind of the Reader, nor confe- 
quently fo perfea in the Epic way of Writing, be- 
caufe it is filled with lefs A<5tion. Let the Reader 
compare what Longinus has obferved on feveral Paf- 
fages of Homer, and he will find Parallels for mod of 
them in the Paradift Lojl. 

From what has been faid we may infer, that as there 
are two kinds of Sentiments, the Natural and the 
Sublime, which are always to be purfued in an Heroic 
Poem, there are alfo two kinds of Thoughts which 
are carefully to be avoided. The firfc are fuch as are 
affected and unnatural ; u,e fecond fuch as are mean 
and vulgar. As for the firfl kind of Thoughts we 
meet with little or nothing that is like them in Virgil: 
He has none of thofe little Points and Puerilities 
that are fo often to be met with in Ovid, none of the 






LOW THOUGHTS ARE TO BE AVOIDED. 29 

Epigrammatick Turns of Lucan, none of thofe fwelling 
Sentiments which are fo frequent [ly] in Statins and 
Claudian, none of thofe mixed Embellilhments of 
Taffo. Everything is juft and natural. His Sentiments 
fhew that he had a perfect Infight into Human Nature, 
and that he knew every thing which was the moft 
proper to affect it. # I remember but one Line in him 
which has been objected againft, by the Criticks, as 
a point of Wit. It is in his ninth Book, where ^unc 
fpeaking of the Trojans, how they furvived the Ruins of 
their City, expreffes her felf in the following Words ; 

Num capti potuere capi, num incenfa cremarnnt 
Pergama ? 

Were the Trojans taken even after they were Captives, 
or did Troy burn even when it was in Flames ? 

Mr. Dryden has in fome Places, which I may here- 
after take notice of, mifreprefented Virgil's way of 
thinking as to this Particular, in the Tranflation he 
has given us of the AZneid. I do not remember that 
Homer any where falls into the Faults above men- 
tioned, which were indeed the falfe Refinements of 
later Ages. Milton, it mult be confeft, has fometimes 
erred in this Refpect, as I fhall fhew more at large in 
another Paper; tho' confidering how all the Poets of 
the Age in which he writ, were infected with this 
wrong way of thinking, he is rather to be admired 
that he did not give more into it, than that he did fome- 
times comply with that [the] vicious Tafle which pre- 
vails fo much among Modern Writers. 

But fmce feveral Thoughts may be natural which 
are low and groveling, an Epic Poet mould not only 
avoid fuch Sentiments as are unnatural or affected, but 
alfo fuch as are low and vulgar. Homer has opened 
a great Field of Raillery to Men of more Delicacy 
than Greatnefs of Genius, by the Homelinefs of fome 
of his Sentiments. But, as I have before faid, thefe 

* From ' I remember' to * Flames?* omitted in second edition. 



30 SENTIMENTS EXCITING LAUGHTER SHOULD BE EXCLUDED. 

are rather to be imputed to the Simplicity of the Age 
in which he lived, to which I may alfo add, of that 
which he defcribed, than to any Imperfection in that 
Divine Poet. Zoilus, among the Ancients, and Mon- 
fieur Perrault, among the Moderns, pufhed their Ridi- 
cule very far upon him, on account of fome fuch Senti- 
ments. There is no Blemiih to be obferved in Virgil 
under this Head, and but very few in Milton. 

I mail give but one Inftance of this Impropriety of 
Sentiments in Ho??zer, and at the fame time compare it 
with an Inftance of the fame nature, both in Virgil 
and Milton. Sentiments which raife Laughter, can 
very feldom be admitted with any decency into an 
Heroic Poem, whofe Bufmefs it # is to excite Paffions of 
a much nobler Nature. Homer, however, in his Cha- 
racters of Vulcan and Therfttes; in his Story of Mars 
and Venus, in his Behaviour of Irus, and in other Paf- 
fages, has been obferved to have lapfed into the Bur- 
lefque Character, and to have departed from that 
ferious Air which feems effential to the Magnificence 
of an Epic Poem. I remember but one Laugh in the 
whole sEneid, which rifes in the Fifth Book upon 
Moncetes, where he is reprefented as thrown overboard, 
and drying himfelf upon a Rock. But this Piece of 
Mirth is fo well timed, that the fevereft Critick can 
have nothing to fay againft it, for it is in the Book of 
Games and Diversions, where the Reader's Mind may 
be fuppofed to be fufhciently relaxed for fuch an En- 
tertainment. The only Piece of Pleafantry in Para- 
dife Loft, is where the Evil Spirits are defcribed as 
rallying the Angels upon the Succefs of their new 
invented Artillery. This Paffage I look upon to be 
the fillieft [moil exceptionable] in the whole Poem, 
as being nothing elfe but a firing of Punns, and thofe 
. too very indifferent ones. 

-Satan beheld their Plight^ 



And to his Mates thus in derifton calFd, 

O Friends, why come not on the/e Viclors proud/ 



THE ONLY PIECE OF PLEASANTRY IN 'PARADISE LOST/ $1 

Eer while they fierce were co7?iing, and when we, 
To entertain them fair with open Front, 
A?id Breafl, i^what could we more) propounded terms 
Of Compofition, flraight they changed their Minds, 
Flew off, and intoflrange Vagaries fell, 
As they would dance, yet for a Dance they feenid 
Somewhat extravagant, and wild, perhaps 
For Joy of offer" d Peace ; but I fuppofe 
If our Propofals once again were heard, 
Wefhould compel them to a quick Remit. 

To whom thus Belial in like gamefome mood. 
Leader, the Terms we fent, were Terms of weight, 
Of hard Contents, and full of force urg' d home, 
Such as we might perceive amus'd them all, 
And {tumbled many ; who receives them right, 
Had need, from Head to Foot, well underftand; 
Not underftood, this Gift they have befides, 
They fheiv us when our Foes walk not upright. 

Thus they among the?nf elves i?ip leaf ant vein 
Stood fcoffing 




Numb. CCLXXXV. 



The SPECTATOR. 



Ne quicunque Dens, quicunque adhibebitur heros> 

Regali confpeclus in auro nuper 6° ojlro, 

Migret in Obfcuras humili fermone tabemas : 

Ant dum vitat humum, nitbes 6° inania captet Hoi. 

{But then they did not wrong them f elves fo much, 

To make a God, a Hero, or a King 

(Stript of his golden Crown, and ptitple Robe) 

Defcend to a Mechanick Dialecl ; 

Nor (to avoid fuch Meannefs) f oaring high. 

With empty Sound, and airy Notions, fly. 

Rofcommon. } 



Saturday , January 26. 17 12. 




WING already treated of the Fable, the 
Characters, and Sentiments in the Paradife 
LoJl y we are in the lafl place to confide r 
the Language • and as the learned World 
is very much divided upon Milton as to 
this Point, I hope they will excufe me if I appear 
particular in any of my Opinions, and encline to thofe 
who judge the mofl advantagioufly of the Author. 

It is requifite that the Language of an Heroic 
Poem fhould be both Perfpicuous and Sublime. In 
proportion as either of thefe two Qualities are want- 
ing, the Language is imperfect. Perfpicuity is the 
firft and moft neceffary Qualification ; infomuch, that 
a good-natured Reader fometimes overlooks a little 
Slip even in the Grammar or Syntax, where it is im- 
poffible for him to miftake the Poet's Senfe. Of this 
kind is that Paffage .in Milton, wherein he fpeaks 
of Satan. 



THE LANGUAGE SHOULD BE PERSPICUOUS AND SUBLIME. 33 

God and his Son except, , 

Created thing 7tought valu'ct he norfhunrCd* 

And that in which he defcribes Adam and Eve. 

Adam the goodlieji Man of Men fence born 
His Sons, the fair eft of her Daughters Eve. 

It is plain, that in the former of thefe Paffages, ac- 
cording to the natural Syntax, the Divine Perfons 
mentioned in the nrft Line are reprefented as created 
Beings ; and that in the other, Adam and Eve are con- 
founded with their Sons and Daughters. Such little 
Blemifhes as thefe, when the Thought is great and ' 
natural, we mould, with Horace, impute to a pardon- 
able Inadvertency, or to the Weaknefs of Human 
Nature, which cannot attend to each minute Parti- 
cular, and give the laft fmiihing to every Circumftance 
in fo long a Work. The Ancient Criticks therefore, 
who were acted by a Spirit of Candour, rather than 
that of Cavilling, invented certain figures of Speech, 
on purpofe to palliate little Errors of this nature in 
the Writings of thofe Authors, who had fo many greater 
Beauties to atone for them. 

If Clearnefs and Perfpicuity were only to be con- 
sulted, the Poet would have nothing elfe to do but to 
cloath his Thoughts in the moil plain and natural Ex- 
preffions. But, fmce it often happens, that the mofl 
obvious Phrafes, and thofe which are ufed in ordinary 
Converfation, become too familiar to the Ear, and 
contract a kind of Meannefs by paffmg through the 
Mouths of the Vulgar, a Poet mould take particular 
care to guard himfelf againft Idiomatick ways of 
fpeaking. Ovid and Lucan have many Poorneffes of 
Expreffion upon this account, as taking up with the 
nrft Phrafes that offered, without putting themfelves 
to the trouble of looking after fuch as would not only 
have been natural, but alfo elevated and fublime. 
Milton has but few Failings in this kind, of which, 

c 



34 A SUBLIME STYLE MAY BE FORMED BY 

however, you may fee an Inftance or two [meet with 
fome Inftances, as] in the following Paffages. 

Embrids and Idiots, Eremites and Eryars 
White, Black, and Grey, with all their Trumpery, 
Here Pilgrims roam- 



- Awhile Difcourfe they hold, 
No fear left Dinner cool ; when thus began 

Our Author 

Who of all Ages to fucceed, but feeling 
The Evil 07i him brought by me, will cur fe 
My Head, ill fare our Anceflor impure. 
For this we may thank Adam 

The great Mailers in Compofition know very well 
that many an elegant Phrafe becomes improper for a 
Poet or an Orator, when it has been debafed by com- 
mon ufe. For this reafon the Works of Ancient 
Authors, which are written in dead Languages, have a 
great Advantage over thofe which are written in Lan- 
guages that are now fpoken. Were there any mean 
Phrafes or Idioms in Virgil and Homer, they would not 
fhock the Ear of the moft delicate Modern Reader, fo 
much as they would have done that of an old Greek 
or Roman, becaufe we never hear them pronounced 
in our Streets, or in ordinary Converfation. 

It is not therefore fufficient, that the Language of 
an Epic Poem be Perfpicuous, unlefs it be alfo Sub- 
lime. To this end it ought to deviate from the com- 
mon Forms and ordinary Phrafes of Speech. The 
Judgment of a Poet very much difcovers it felf in 
fhunning the common Roads of Expreffion, without 
falling into fuch ways of Speech as may feem ftiff and 
unnatural ; he muft not fwell into a falfe Sublime, by 
endeavouring to avoid the other Extream. Among 
the Greeks, Efchylus, and fometimes Sophocles, were 
guilty of this Fault ; among the Latins, Claudian and 
Statins ; and among our own Countrymen, Shakefpear 
and Lee. In thefe Authors the Affectation of Great- 
nefs often hurts the Perfpicuity of the Stile, as in 



USING METAPHORS, FOREIGN IDIOMS, ETC. 35 

many others the Endeavour after Perfpicuity prejudices 
its Greatnefs. 

Ariflotle has obferved, that the Idiomatick Stile may 
be avoided, and the Sublime formed, by the following 
Methods. Firft, by the ufe of Metaphors, like thofe 
of Milton. 

Imparadis'd in one anothers Amis, 
And i7i his Hand a Reed 



Stood waving tipt with Fire;- 
The gra f fie Clods now calv'd- 



In thefeandfeveral [innumerable] other Inflances, the 
Metaphors are very bold but beautiful ; I muft however 
obferve, that the Metaphors are not thick fown in Milton, 
which always favours too much of Wit; that they 
never clafh with one another, which as Ari/lotle ob- 
ferves, turns a Sentence into a kind of an Enigma or 
Riddle; and that he feldom makes ufe of them 
where the proper and natural Words will do as well. 

Another way of raifing the Language, and giving it 
a Poetical Turn, is to make ufe of the Idioms of other 
Tongues. Virgil is full of the Greek Forms of Speech, 
which the Criticks call Hellenifms, as Horace in his 
Odes abounds with them much more than Virgil. I 
need not mention the feveral Dialects which Homer 
has made ufe of for this end. Milton, in conformity 
with the Practice of the Ancient Poets, and with 
Arifiotle's, Rule has infufed a great many latinifms, as 
well as Grcecifms, [and fometimes Hebraifms^\ into the 
Language of his Poem; as towards the Beginning 
of it. 

Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 

In which they were, or the fierce Pains not feel. 

[ Yet to their General's Voice they foon obefd.~\ 

Whojhall tempt with wandring Feet 

The dark unbottom!d Infinite Abyfs, 

And through the palpable Obfcure t /&^ out his way, 



36 A SUBLIME STYLE MAY BE FORMED BY INVERTING 

His uncouth way, or fpread his airy Flight 
Upborn with indefatigable Wings 
Over the vail Abrupt ! 

[ So both afcend 

In the Vifwns of God B. 2.] 

Under this Head may be reckoned the placing the 
Adjective after the Subflantive, the tranfpofition of 
Words, the turning the Adjective into a Subflantive, 
with feveral other Foreign Modes of Speech, which 
this Poet has naturalized to give his Verfe the greater 
Sound, and throw it out of Profe. 

The third Method mentioned by A riflotle, is that which 
[what] agrees with the Genius of the Greek Language more 
than With that of any other Tongue, and is therefore more 
ufed by Homer than by any other Poet I mean the 
lengthning of a Phrafe by the Addition of Words, 
which may either be inferted or omitted, as alfo by 
the extending or contracting of particular Words by 
the Infertion or Omiffion of certain Syllables. Milton 
has put in practice this Method of raifmg his Lan- 
guage, as far as the nature of our Tongue will permit, 
as in the Paffage above-mentioned, Eremite, [for] what 
is Hermit [e], in common Difcourfe. If you obferve the 
Meafure of his Verfe, he has with great Judgment fup- 
preffed a Syllable in feveral Words, and fhortned 
thofe of two Syllables into one, by which Method, 
befides the abovementioned Advantage, he has given 
a greater Variety to his Numbers. But this Practice 
is more particularly remarkable in the Names of Per- 
fons and of Countries, &sBeelzebub,Heffebon, and in many 
other Particulars, wherein he has either changed the 
Name, or made ufe of that which is not the mofl com- 
monly known, that he might the better deviate from the 
Language of the Vulgar. 

The fame Reafon recommended to him feveral old 
Words, which alfo makes his Poem appear the more 
venerable, and gives it a greater Air of Antiquity. 

I mull likewife take notice, that there are in Milton 



OR LENGTHENING PHRASES. MILTON COINS WORDS.? 37 

feveral Words of his own Coining, as Cerberean, \*nif- 
created. Hell-doom 'd, Embryon Atoms, and many others. 
If the Reader is offended at this Liberty in our Engtijh 
Poet, I would recommend him to a Difcourfe in 'Plu- 
tarch, which mews us how frequently Homer has n? ia de 
ufe of the fame Liberty. 

Milton, by the above-mentioned Helps, and by \*he 
choice of the nobleft Words and Phrafes which our 
Tongue wou'd afford him, has carried our Language 
to a greater height than any of the Englijh Poets 
have ever done before or after him, and made the 
Sublimity of his Stile equal to that of his Sentiments. 

I have been the more particular in thefe Obferva- 
tions of Milton's Stile* becaufe it is that part of him 
in which he appears the moft fmgular. The Remarks 
I have here made upon the Practice of other Poets, 
with my Obfervations out of Ariftotle, will perhaps 
alleviate the Prejudice which fdme have taken to his 
Poem upon this Account ; tho' after all, I mufl 
confefs, that I think his Stile, tho' admirable in 
general, is in fome places too much fliffened and ob- 
fcured by the frequent ufe of thofe Methods, which 
Ariftotle has prefcribed for the raifing of it. 

This Redundancy of thofe feveral ways of Speech 
which Ariftotle calls foreign Language, and with which 
Milton has fo very much enriched, and in fome places 
darkned the Language of his Poem, is [was] the more 
proper for his ufe, becaufe his Poem is written in 
Blank Verfe. Rhyme, without any other Afhftance, 
throws the Language off from Profe, and very often 
makes an indifferent Phrafe pafs unregarded ; but 
where the Verfe is not built upon Rhymes, there 
Pomp of Sound, and Energy of Expreffion, are indif- 
penfably neceffary to fupport the Stile, and keep it 
from falling into the Flatnefs of Profe. 

Thofe who have not a Tafte for this Elevation of 
Stile, and are apt to ridicule a Poet when he departs 
from the common Forms of Expreffion, would do well 
to fee how Ariftotle has treated an ancient Author, 



33 milton's verse. 

called Euclid, for his infrpid Mirth upon this Occafion. 
jyjv. Dry den ufed to call this fort of Men his Profe- 
Crificks. 

jl mould, under this Head of the Language, con- 
fioW Milton's Numbers, in which he has made ufe of 
f eve ral Elifions, that are not cuftomary among other 
J? n glifh Poets, as may be particularly obferved in his 
CD dting off the Letter F, when it precedes a Vowel. 
'ti his, and fome other Innovations in the Meafure of 
his Verfe, has varied his Numbers in fuch a manner, 
as makes them incapable of fatiating the Ear and 
cloying the Reader, which the fame uniform Meafure 
would certainly have done, and which the perpetual 
Returns of Rhyme never fail to do in long Narrative 
Poems. I mall clofe thefe Reflections upon the Lan- 
guage of Paradife Lojl, with obferving that Milton 
has copied after Homer, rather than Virgil, in the 
length of his Periods, the Copioufnefs of his Phrafes, 
and the running of his Verfes into one another. 




Numb. CCXCL 

The SPECTATOR. 



Ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis 

Offendor maculis, quas aut Incuria fudit, 

Aut Humana parum cavit Natura Hor. 

\ But in a Poem elegantly writ, 

I will not quarrel with a flight Mijlake, 

Such as our Nature } s frailty may excufe. 

Rofcommon.l 



Saturday, February 2. 17 12. 



Have now confider'd Milton's Paradife 
Loft under thofe four great Heads of the 
Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments, and 
the Language ; and have fhewn that he 
excels, in general, under each of thefe 
Heads. I hope that I have made feveral Difcoveries 
that [which] may appear new, even to thofe who are 
verfed in Critical Learning. Were I indeed to chufe my 
Readers, by whofe Judgment I would Hand or fall, 
they mould not be fuch as are acquainted only with 
Xht French and//tf//#/zCriticks,but alio with the Ancient 
and Moderns who have written in either of the learned 
Languages. Above all, I would have them well verfed 
in the Greek and Latin Poets, without which a Man 
very often fancies that he underftands a Critick, when 
in reality he does not comprehend his Meaning. 

It is in Criticifm, as in all other Sciences and 
Speculations ; one who brings with him any implicit 
Notions and Obfervations which he has made in his 
reading of the Poets, will find his own Reflections 
methodized and explained, and perhaps feveral little 
Hints that had paffed in his Mind, perfected and 1m- 




40 A CPITIC MUST HAVE A CLEAR 6° LOGICAL HEAD : &> OUGHT 

proved in the Works of a good Critick ; whereas one 
who has not thefe previous Lights, is very often an 
utter Stranger to what he reads, and apt to put a 
wrong Interpretation upon it. 

Nor is it fumcientf that a Man who fets up for a 
Judge in Criticifm, fhould have perufed the Authors 
above-mentioned, unlefs he has alfo a clear and 
Logical Head. Without this Talent he is perpetually 
puzzled and perplexed amidft his own Blunders, 
miftakes the Senfe of thofe he would confute, or if 
he chances to think right, does not know how to convey 
his Thoughts to another with Clearnefs and Perfpicuity. 
Ari/iotle, who was the befl Critick, was alfo one of the 
belt Logicians that ever appeared in the World. 

Mr. Lock's Effay on Human Underftanding would 
be thought a very odd Book for a Man to make 
himfelf Mailer of, who would get a Reputation by 
Critical Writings ; though at the fame time it is very 
certain, that an Author who has not learn'd the Art 
of diftinguifhing between Words and Things, and of 
ranging his Thoughts, and fetting them in proper Lights, 
whatever Notions he may have, will lofe himfelf in Con- 
fufion and Obfcurity. I might further obferve, that 
there is not a Greek or Latin Critick, who has not fhewn, 
even in the ftile of his Criticifms, that he was a Matter 
of all the Elegance and Delicacy of his Native Tongue. 

The truth of it is, there is nothing more abfurd, 
than for a Man to fet up for a Critick, without a good 
Infight into all the Parts of Learning ; whereas many 
of thofe who have endeavoured to hgnalize themfelves 
by Works of this Nature among our Englijh Writers, 
are not only defective in the above-mentioned Parti- 
culars, but plainly difcover by the Phrafes which they 
make ufe of, and by their confufed way of thinking, 
that they are not acquainted with the moft common and 
ordinary Syftems of Arts and Sciences. A few general 
Rules extracted out of Xht French Authors, with a certain 
Cant of Words, has fometimes fet up an Illiterate heavy 
Writer for a moil judicious and formidable Critick. 



TO DWELL RATHER ON EXCELLENCIES THAN IMPERFECTIONS. 41 

One great Mark, by which you may difcover a 
Critick who has neither Tafte nor Learning, is this, 
that he feldom ventures to praife any Paffage in an 
Author which has not been before received and ap- 
plauded by the Publick, and that his Criticifm turns 
wholly upon little Faults and Errors. This part of a 
Critick is fo very eafie to fucceed in, that we find every 
ordinary Reader, upon the publifhing of a new Poem, 
has Wit and Ill-nature enough to turn feveral Paffages 
of it into Ridicule, arid very often in the right Place. 
This Mr. Dry den has very agreeably remarked in thofe 
two celebrated Lines, 

Errors, like Straws ', upon the Surf ace flow ; 
He who would fear ch for Pearls mufi dive below. 

A true Critick ought to dwell rather upon Excel- 
lencies than Imperfections, to difcover the concealed 
Beauties of a Writer, and communicate to the World 
fuch things as are worth their Obfervation. The 
moft exquifite Words and fmeft Strokes of an Author 
are thofe which very often appear the moft doubtful 
and exceptionable, to a Man who wants a Relifh for po- 
lite Learning ; and they are thefe, which a fower [foure] 
undiftinguiihing Critick generally attacks with the 
greatefl Violence. Tully obferves, that it is very 
eafie to brand or fix a Mark upon what he calls Verbum 
ardens, or, as it may be rendered into Englifh, a glow- 
ing bold Expreflfion, and to turn it into Ridicule by a 
cold ill-natured Criticifm. A little Wit is equally 
capable of expofmg a Beauty, and of aggravating a 
Fault ; and though fuch a Treatment of an Author 
naturally produces Indignation in the Mind of an 
underflanding Reader, it has however its efFecl; among 
the generality of thofe whofe Hands it falls into, the 
Rabble of Mankind being very apt to think that every 
thing which is laughed at with any mixture of Wit, is 
ridiculous in it felf. 

Such a Mirth as this, is always unfeafonable in a 
Critick, as it rather prejudices the Reader than con- 



42 SIMPLE RIDICULE UNFAIR IN WORKS OF CRITICISM. 

vinces him, and is capable of making a Beauty, as 
well as a Blemilh, the Subject of Derm on. A Man, 
who cannot write with Wit on a proper Subject, is dull 
and ftupid, but one who mews it in an improper place, 
is as impertinent and abfurd. Befides, a Man who 
has the Gift of Ridicule is very* apt to find Fault with 
any thing that gives him an Opportunity of exerting 
his beloved Talent, and very often cenfures a Paffage, 
not becaufe there is any Fault in it, but becaufe he 
can be merry upon it. Such kinds of Pleafantry are 
very unfair and difmgenuous in Works of Criticifm, in 
which the greateft Mailers, both Ancient and Modern, 
have always appeared with a ferious and inftructive Air. 

As I intend in my next Paper to fhew the Defects 
in Miltorts Paradife Loft, I thought fit to premife thefe 
few Particulars, to the End that the Reader may know 
I enter upon it, as on a very ungrateful Work, and 
that I mall juft point at the Imperfections, without en- 
deavouring to enrlame them with Ridicule. I mult alfo 
obferve with Longinus, that the Productions of a great 
Genius, with many Lapfes and Inadvertencies, are in- 
finitely preferable to the Works of an inferior kind of 
Author, which are fcrupulouily exact and conformable 
to all the Rules of correct Writing. 

I Ihall conclude my Paper with a Story out of Bocca- 
lini, which fufficiently fhews us the Opinion that Judi- 
cious Author entertained of the fort of Criticks I have 
been here mentioning. A famous Critick, fays he, 
having gathered together all the Faults of an Eminent 
Poet, made a Prefent of them to Apollo, who received 
them very graciouily, and refolved to make the Author 
a fuitable Return for the Trouble he had been at in 
collecting them. In order to this, he fet before him a 
Sack of Wheat, as it had been juft threihed out of the 
Sheaf. He then bid him pick out the Chaff from 
among the Corn, and lay it afide by it felf. The Critick 
applied hirnfelf to the Task with great Induftry and 
Pleafure, and after having made the due Separation, 
was prefented by Apollo with the Chaff for his Pains. 



Numb. CCXCVII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

-velut fi 




Egregio in/ft erf os reprendas corpore ncevos. Hor. 

\As perfecl beauties often have a Mole. Creech. } 

Saturday ', February 9, 17 12. 



|FTER what I have faid in my laft Satur- 
day's Paper, I fhall enter on the SubjecSl 
of this without farther Preface, and remark 
the feveral Defers which appear in the 
Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments, and 
the Language of Milton's Paradife Lofl ; not doubting 
but the Reader will pardon me, if I alledge at the 
fame time whatever may be faid for the Extenuation 
of fuch Defecfls. The firft Imperfection which I 
fhall obferve in the Fable is, that the Event of it is 
unhappy. 

The Fable of every Poem is according to Ariflotle's 
Divifion either Simple or Implex. It is called Simple 
when there is no change of Fortune in it, Implex 
when the Fortune of the chief Acflor changes from 
Bad to Good, or from Good to Bad. The Implex 
Fable is thought the mofl perfecfl • I fuppofe, becaufe 
it is mofl proper to ftir up the Paffions of the Reader, 
and to furprize him with a greater variety of Accidents. 
The Implex Fable is therefore of two kinds : In the 
firft the chief Acflor makes his way through a long Series 
of Dangers and Difficulties, 'till he arrives at Honour 
and Profperity, as we fee in the Stories [Story] of Ulyjfes 
and*s£neas* In the fecond, the chiefAcflorin the Poem 
falls fromfome eminent pitch of Honour and Profperity, 
into Mifery and Difgrace. Thus we fee Adam and Eve 
linking from a State of Innocence and Happinefs, 
into the mofl abjecfl Condition of Sin and Sorrow. 



44 DEFECTS. THE FABLE IS UNHAPPY, ITS HERO UN- 

The moft taking Tragedies among the Ancients 
were built on this laft fort of Implex Fable, particu- 
larly the Tragedy of OEdipus, which proceeds upon 
a Story, if we may believe Ariflotle, the mod proper 
for Tragedy that could be invented by the Wit of 
Man. I have taken fome pains in a former Paper to 
(hew, that this kind of Implex Fable, wherein the 
Event is unhappy, is more apt to affect an Audience 
than that of the firfl kind ; notwithstanding many 
excellent Pieces among the Ancients, as well as moil 
of thofe which have been written of late Years in our 
own Country, are raifed upon contrary Plans. I mult 
however own, that I think this kind of Fable, which 
is the moft perfect in Tragedy, is not fo proper for an 
Heroic Poem. 

Milton feems to have been fenfible of this Imper- 
fection in his Fable, and has therefore endeavoured 
to cure it by feveral Expedients ; particularly by the 
Mortification which the great Adverfary of Mankind 
meets with upon his return to the Affembly of Infernal 
Spirits, as it is defcribed in that [a] beautiful Paffage 
of the tenth Book ; and likewife by the Vifion, wherein 
Adam at the clofe of the Poem fees his Off-fpring 
triumphing over his great Enemy, and himfelf reflored 
to a happier Paradife than that from which he fellf 

There is another Objection againfl Milton's Fable, 
which is indeed almofi the fame with the former, 
tho' placed in a different Light, namely, That the 
Hero in the Paradife Lojl is unfuccefsful, and by no 
means a Match for his Enemies. This gave occafion 
to Mr. Dry den's Reflection, that the Devil was in 
reality Milton's Hero. I think I have obviated this 
Objection in my firfl Paper. The Paradife Lofl is an 
Epic, [or a] Narrative Poem, he that looks for an 
Hero in it, fearches for that which Milton never in- 
tended \ but if he will needs fix the Name of an Hero 
upon any Perfon in it, 'tis certainly the Meffcah who 

+ See p. 147. 



SUCCESSFUL, AND IT HAS TOO MANY DIGRESSIONS. 45 

is the Hero, both in the Principal Action, and in the 
[chief] Epifode[s]. Paganifm could not furnifh out a 
real Action for a Fable greater than that of the Iliad 
or JEneid, and therefore an Heathen could not form 
a higher Notion of a Poem than one of that kind, 
which they call an Heroic. Whether Miltorts is not 
of a greater [fublimer] Nature I will not prefume to de- 
termine, it is fufficient that I fhew there is in the Para- 
di/elojl all the Greatnefs of Plan, Regularity of Defign, 
and mafterly Beauties which we difcover in Homer 
and Virgil. 

I muft in the next Place obferve, that Milton has 
interwoven in the Texture of his, Fable fome Particu- 
lars which do not feem to have Probability enough 
for an Epic Poem., particularly in the Actions which 
he afcribes to Sin and Death, and the Picture which 
he draws of the Lymbo of Vanity, with other Paffages 
in the fecond Book. Such Allegories rather favour 
of the Spirit of Spencer and Ariofto, than of Homer 
and Virgil. 

In the Structure of his Poem he has like wife ad- 
mitted of too many Digreffions. It is finely obferved 
by Ariflotle, that the Author of an Heroic Poem 
fhould feldom fpeak himfelf, but throw as much of his 
Work as he can into the Mouths of thofe who are 
his Principal Actors. Arijlotle has given no Reafon 
for this Precept ; but I prefume it is becaufe the Mind 
of the Reader is more awed and elevated when he 
hears SEneas or Achilles fpeak, than when Virgil or 
Homer talk in their own Perfons. Befides that affum- 
ing the Character of an eminent Man is apt to fire 
the Imagination, and raife the Ideas of the Author. 
Tully tells us, mentioning his Dialogue of Old Age, in 
which Cato is the chief Speaker, that upon a Review 
of it he was agreeably impofed upon, and fancied that 
it was Cato, and not he himfelf, who utter'd his 
Thoughts on that Subject. 

If the Reader would be at the pains to fee how the 
Story of the Iliad and the ^E?ieid is delivered by thofe 



46 DEFECTS. THE SENTIMENTS : PUNS, TOO FREQUENT AL- 

Perfons who act in it, he will be furprized to find 
how little in either of thefe Poems proceeds from the 
Authors. Milton has, in the general difpofition of 
his Fable, very finely obferved this great Rule ; info- 
much, that there is fcarce a third part of it which comes 
from the Poet ; the reft is fpoken either by Adam and 
Eve, or by fome Good or Evil Spirit who is engaged 
either in their DefLruction or Defence. 

From what has been here obferved it appears, that 
Digreffions are by no means to be allowed of in an 
Epic Poem. If the Poet, even in the ordinary courfe 
of his Narration, mould fpeak as little as poffible, he 
, fhould certainly never let his Narration lleep for the 
fake of any Reflections of his own. I have often ob- 
ferved, with a fecret Admiration, that the longeft Re- 
flection in the ^Eneid is in that Paffage of the Tenth 
Book, where Turnus is reprefent[ed] as drefling himfelf 
in the Spoils of Pallas, whom he had flain. Virgil 
here lets his Fable ftand flill for the fake of the fol- 
lowing Remark. How is the Mind of Man ignorant 
of Futurity, and unable to bear profperous Fortune with 
Moderation ? The time will come when Tumusfhall 
wifh that he had left the Body of Pallas untouched, 
and curfe the Day on which he drejfed himfelf in thefe 
Spoils. As the great Event of the sEneid, and the 
Death of Turnus, whom ALneas flew becaufe he faw 
him adorned with the Spoils of Pallas, turns upon this 
Incident, Virgil went out of his way to make this 
Reflection upon it, without which fo fmall a Circum- 
ftance might poffibly have flipped out of his Reader's 
Memory. Lucaji, who was an Injudicious Poet, lets 
drop his Story very frequently for the fake of [his] 
unneceffary Digreffions or his Diverticula, as Scaliger 
calls them. If he gives us an Account of the Pro- 
digies which preceded- the Civil War, he declaims upon 
the Occafion, and fhews how much happier it would 
be for Man, if he did not feel his Evil Fortune before 
it comes to pafs, and fuffer not only by its real Weight, 
but by the Apprehenfion of it. Milton's Complaint 



LUSION TO HEATHEN FABLES, OSTENTATION OF LEARNING. 47 

of his JBlindnefs, his Panegyrick on Marriage, his Re- 
flections on Adam and Eve's going naked, of the Angels 
eating, and feveral other Paffages in his Poem, are 
liable to the fame Exception, tho' I muft confefs there 
is fo great a Beauty in thefe very Digreffions, that 
I would not wifh them out of his Poem. 

I have, in a former Paper, fpoken of the Characters 
of Milton's Paradife Loft, and declared my Opinion, 
as to the Allegorical Perfons who are introduced in it. 

If we look into the Sentiments, I think they are 
fometimes defective under the following Heads ; Firft, 
as there are fome [feveral] of them too much pointed, 
and fome that degenerate even into Punns. Of this laft 
kind I am afraid is that in the Firft Book, where, 
fpeaking of the Pigmies, he calls them. 

-Thefj?iall Infantry 



Warr'd on by Cranes- 

Another Blemifh that appears in fome of his 
Thoughts, is his frequent Allufion to Heathen Fables, 
which are not certainly of a Piece with the Divine 
Subject, of which he treats. I do not find fault with 
thefe Allufions, where the Poet himfelf reprefents 
them as fabulous, as he does in fome Places, but 
where he mentions them as Truths and Matters of 
Fact. The Limits of my Paper will not give me leave 
to be particular in Inftances of this kind : The Reader 
will eafily remark them in his Perufal of the Poem. 

A Third Fault in his Sentiments, is an unneceffary 
Oftentation of Learning, which likewife occurs very 
frequently. It is certain that both Homer and Virgil 
were Mailers of all the Learning of their Times, but it 
ihews it felf in their Works after an indirect and con- 
cealed manner. Milton feems ambitious of letting us 
know, by his Excurfions on Free-will and Predeflina- 
tion, and his many Glances upon Hiftory, Aftronomy, 
Geography and the like, as well as by the Terms 
and Phrafes he fometimes makes ufe of, that he was 
acquainted with the whole Circle of Arts and Sciences. 



48 DEFECTS. THE LANGUAGE IS OFTEN TOO 

If, in the laft place, we confider the Language of 
. this great Poet, we mufl allow what I have hinted in 
a former Paper, that it is [often] too much laboured, 
and fometimes obfcuredby old Words, Tranfpofitions, 
and Foreign Idioms. Seneca's Objection to the Stile 
of a great Author, Riget ejus oratio, nihil in ed placi- 
dum, nihil lene, is what many Criticks make to Milton : 
as I cannot wholly refute it, fo I have already apolo- 
gized for it in another Paper ; to which I may further 
add, that Milton's Sentiments and Ideas were fo won- 
derfully Sublime, that it. would have been impoffible 
for him to have reprefented them in their full Strength 
and Beauty, without having recourfe to thefe Foreign 
Affiflances. Our Language funk under him, and was 
unequal to that greatnefs of Soul, which furnifhed him 
with fuch glorious Conceptions. 

A fecond Fault in his Language is, that he often af- 
fects a kind of Jingle in his Words, as in the following 
Paffages, and many others : 

And brought into the World a World of woe, 
-Begirt tK Almighty Throne 



Befeeching or befieging- 
This tempted our attempt- 



At one Slight bound high overleapt all bound. 

I know there are Figures of this kind of Speech, 
that fome of the greateft Ancients have been guilty of 
it, and that Arijlotle himfelf has given it a place in his 
Rhetorick among the Beauties of that Art. But as it is 
in itsfelf poor and trifling, it is I think at prefent uni- 
verfally exploded by all the Mailers of polite Writing. 

The laft Fault which I fhall take notice of in Mil- 
ton's Stile, is the frequent ufe of what the Learned 
call Technical Words, or Terms of Art. It is one of 
the great Beauties of Poetry, to make hard things in- 
telligible, and to deliver what is abftrufe of it felf in 
fuch eafy Language as may be underftood by ordinary 
Readers: Befides that the Knowledge of a Poet 
Ihould rather feem born with him, or infpired, than 



OBSCURE, JINGLING, AND TECHNICAL. 49 

drawn from Books and Syftems. I have often won- 
dered how Mr. Dryden could tranflate a Paffage of 
Virgil after the following manner. 

Tack to the Larboard, andfland off to Sea y 
Veer Star-board Sea and Land. 

Milton makes ufe of Larboard in the fame manner. 
When he is upon Building he mentions Doric Pillars, 
Pilaflers, Cornice, Freeze, Architrave. When he talks of 
Heavenly Bodies, you meet with Eccliptick, and Eccen- 
tric, the trepidation, Stars dropping from the Zeiiith, 
Rays culminating from the Equator. To which might 
be added many Inftances of the like kind in feveral 
other Arts and Sciences. 

I (hall in my next Saturday's* Paper [Papers] give an 
Account of the many particular Beauties in Milton, which 
would have been too long to infert under thofe general 
Heads I have already treated of, and with which I 
intend to conclude this Piece of Criticifm. 




Numb. CCCIII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

votet here fub luce videri % 



Judicis argutum qua nonformidat acumen. I lor. 



-Some choofe the cleareft Light, 




And boldly challenge the nio/i piercing Eye. Rofcommon. } 
Saturday, February 16. 17 12. 

Have feen in the Works of a Modern 
Philofopher, a -Map of the Spots in the 
Sun. My tail Taper of the Faults and 
Blemifhes in Miltoris Paradife Lojl, may 
be confider'd as a Piece of the fame 
Nature. To purfue the Allufion : As it is obferv'd, 
that among the bright parts of the Luminous Body 
above-mentioned, there are fome which glow more 
intenfely, and dart a ftronger Light than others; fo, 
notwithstanding I have already (hewn Miltoris Poem 
to be very beautiful in general, I fhall now proceed to 
take notice of fuch Beauties as appear to me more 
exquifite than the reft. Milton, has propofed the 
Subject of his Poem in the following Verfes. 

Of J fans fnjl difobedience, and the fruit 
Of that forbidden tree, whofe mortal tajle 
Brought Death into the World and all our wee, 
With lofs ^/"Eden, ^ till one greater Man 
Reflore us, and regain the blifful Seat, 
Sing Heav'nly Mufe 

Thefe Lines are perhaps as plain, fimple and un- 
adorned as any of the whole Poem, in which particu- 
lar the Author has conform' d himfelf to the Example 
of Homer, and the Precept of Horace, 

His Invocation to a Work which turns^ in a great 



CRITICISM OF BOOK I. 51 

rneafure upon the Creation of the World, is very 
properly made to the Mufe who infpired Mofes in 
thole Books from whence our Author drew his Sub- 
ject, and to the Holy Spirit who is therein reprefented 
as operating after a particular manner in the firft 
Production of Nature. This whole Exordium rifes 
very happily into noble Language and Sentiment, as 
I think the Tranfition to the Fable is exquifitely 
beautiful and natural. 

The nine Days Aflonifliment, in which the Angels 
lay entranced after their dreadful Overthrow and Fall 
from Heaven, before they could recover either the 
ufe of Thought or Speech, is a noble Circumftance^ 
and very finely imagined. The Divifion of Hell into 
Seas of Fire, and into firm Ground impregnated with 
the fame furious Element, with that particular Cir- 
cumflance of the exclufion of Hope from thofe Infer- 
nal Regions, are Inftances of the lame great and 
fruitful Invention. 

The Thoughts in the firft Speech and Defcription 
of Satan, who is one of the principal Actors in this 
Poem, are wonderfully proper to give us a full Idea 
of him. His Pride, Envy and Revenge, Obftinacy, 
Defpair and Impenitence, are all of them very artfully 
interwoven. In fliort, his firft Speech is a Complica- 
tion of all thofe Paflions which difcover themfelves 
Separately in feveral other of his Speeches in the 
Poem. The whole part of this great Enemy of Man- 
kind is filled with fuch Incidents as are very apt to 
raife and terrifie the Reader's Imagination. Of this 
Nature, in the Book now before us, is his being the 
firft that awakens out of the general Trance, with his 
Poflure on the burning Lake, his rifing from it, and 
the Defcription of his Shield and Spear. 

Thus Satan talking to his near eft mate, 
With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
Thai fparkling blazed, his other parts befide 
Prone on the Floods extended long and large. 



52 CRITICISM OF BOOK T. 

Lay floating many a rood 

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
His mighty Stature; on each hand the flames 
Driven backward flope their pointing Spires ', and roivPd 
In Billows^ leave i y th' midjl a horrid vale. 
Then with expanded wings he fleers his flight 
Aloft, incumbent on the dusky Air 
That felt unufual w eight - 



-His pondrous Shield 



Ethereal temper, maffie, large and round 
Behind him cafl ; the broad circumference 
Hung on his Shoulders like the Moon, ivhofe orb 
Thrd Optick Glafs the Tufcan Artifls view 
At Evening from the top (/Fefole, 
Or i?i Valdarno to defcry new Lands, 
Fivers or Mowitains on her f potty Globe. 
His Spear to equal which the tallefl pine 
Hewn on Norwegian Hills to be the Mafl 
Of fo me great Ammiral, were but a wand 
He walked with to fuppo?'t uneafle Steps 
Over the burning Marl 

To which we may add his Call to the fallen Angels 
that lay plunged and flupified in the Sea of Fire. 

He calVdfo 7n ud, that all the hollow deep 
Of Hell refounded 

But there is no fmgle Paffage in the whole Poem 
worked up to a greater Sublimity, than that wherein 
his Perfon is defenbed in thofe celebrated Lines : 

He, above the refl 



Infhape and geflure proudly eminent 
Stood like a Tower, &c. 

His Sentiments are every way anfwerable to his Cha- 
racter, and are* fuitable to a created Being of the moft 
exalted and mofl depraved Nature. Such is that in 
which he takes Poffeffion of his Place of Torments. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK I. 53 

-Hail Horrors ', hail 



Infernal World, and thou profoundefl Hell 
Receive thy new Pojfejfor, one who brings 
A mind not to be changed by place or time. 

And afterwards, 

Here at leajl 

Wejhall be free; th? Almighty hath not built 
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 
Here we may reign fecure, and in my choice 
To reign is worth a7Jibition, thd in Hell: 
Better to reign in Hell, than ferve in Heaven. 

Amidfl thofe Impieties which this Enraged Spirit 
utters in other Places of the Poem, the Author has 
taken care to introduce none that is not big with 
abfurdity, and incapable of mocking a Religious 
Reader; his Words, as the Poet himfelf defcribes them, 
bearing only a femblance of Worth, not Sub/lance. He 
is likewife with great Art defcribed as owning his Adver- 
fary to be Almighty. Whatever perverfe Interpreta- 
tion he puts on the Juftice, Mercy, and other Attri- 
butes of the Supreme Being, he frequently confeffes 
his Omnipotence, that being the Perfection he was 
forced to allow him, and the only Confideration which 
could fupport his Pride under the Shame of his Defeat. 

Nor muft I here omit that beautiful Circumftance 
of his burfling out in Tears, upon his Survey of thofe 
innumerable Spirits whom he had involved in the 
fame Guilt and Ruin with himfelf. 

— He now prepared 

To f peak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
From wing to wing, and half enclofe him round 
With all his Peers : Attention held them mute. 
Thrice he ajfay'd, and thrice in fpite of Scorn 
Tears fuch as Angels weep, burfl forth 

The Catalogue of Evil Spirits has a great deal [Abun- 
dance] of Learning in it, and a very agreeable turn of 



54 CRITICISM OF BOOK I. 

Poetry, which rifes in a great meafure from his describ- 
ing the Places where they were worshipped, by thofe 
beautiful marks of Rivers fo frequent among the 
Ancient Poets. The Author had doubtlefs in this 
place Homer's Catalogue of Ships, and Virgil's Lift 
of Warriors in his view. The Characters of Moloch 
and Belial prepare the Reader's Mind for their re- 
fpedlive Speeches and Behaviour in the fecond and 
fixth Book. The Account of Tkammuz is finely Ro- 
mantick, and fuitable to what we read among the 
Ancients of the Worfhip which was paid to that Idol. 



-Thammuz came next behind, 



Whofe annual Wound in Lebanon allured 
The Syrian Damfels to lament his fate, 
I?i anirons Ditties all a Summer's day, 
While fmooth Adonis/h?;/z his native Rock 
Ran purple to the Sea,fuppos'd with Blood 
Of Thammuz yearly wounded: the Love-tale 
Infecled SionV Daughters with like Heat, 
Whofe wanton Paffions in the f acred Porch 
Ezekiel faw, when by the Vifion led 
His Eye furvefd the dark Idolatries 
Of alienated Judah. 

The Reader will pardon me if I infeft as a Note 
on this beautiful Paffage, the Account given us by the 
late ingenious Mr. Maundrell of this Antient Piece of 
Worfhip, and probably the firft Occafion of fuch a 
Superftition. ' We came to a fair large River .... 
; doubtlefs the Antient River Adonis, fo famous for the 
1 Idolatrous Rites perform'd here in Lamentation of 
' Adonis. We had the Fortune to fee what may be 
c fuppofed to be the Occafion of that Opinion which 
' Zucian relates, concerning this River, viz. That this 
' Stream, at certain Seafons of the Year, efpecially about 

t This passage was added in the author's life-time, but subsequent to the 
second edition. The earliest issue with it in that I have seen, is Notes upon 
the Twelve Books of'Paadise Lost.* London 1719. p. 43. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK I. 55 

' the Feafl of Adonis, is of a bloody Colour; which the 
I* Heathens looked upon as proceeding from a kind of 
1 Sympathy in the River for the Death of Adonis, who 
6 was killed by a wild Boar in the Mountains, out of 
' which this Stream rifes. Something like this we faw 

* actually come to pafs ; for the Water was ftain'd to 
c a furprifmg rednefs; and, as we obferved in Travelling, 
' had difcolour'd the Sea a great way into a reddifh 
6 Hue, occafion'd doubtlefs by a fort of Minium, or 

* red Earth, wafhed. into the River by the violence of 
; the Rain, and not by any flain from Adonis's Blood.'} 

The Paffage in the Catalogue, explaining the man- 
ner how Spirits transform themfelves by Contraction, 
or Enlargement of their Dimenfions, is introduced with 
great Judgement, to make way for feveral furprizing 
Accidents in the Sequel of the Poem. There follows 
one, at the very End of the Firft Book, which is what 
the French Critics call Marvellous, but at the fame 
time probable by reafon of the Paffage laft mentioned. 
As foon as the Infernal Palace is finifhed, we are 
told the Multitude and Rabble of Spirits immediately 
fhrunk themfelves into a fmall Compafs, that there 
might be Room for fuch anumberlefs Affembly in this 
capacious Hall. But it is the Poet's Refinement upon 
this Thought, which I moil admire, and which is 
indeed very noble in its felf. For he tells us, that not- 
withftanding the vulgar, among the fallen Spirits, con- 
tracted their Forms, thofe of the firft Rank and Dignity 
dill preferved their natural Dimenfions. 

Thus incorporeal Spirits to fmallejl Forms 
Reduced their Shapes immenfe, and were at large, 
Though without Number fill amidjl the Hall 
Of that infernal Court. But far within, 
And in their own Dimenfw?is like themfelves^ 
The Great Seraphick Lords and Cherub i??i. t 
, In clofe recefs and Secret conclave fate, 
A thoufand Demy Gods on Golden Seats, 
Frequent and full 



56 CRITICISM OF BOOK 1 

The Character of Mammon, and the Defoliation of 
the Pandcemonium, are full of Beauties. 

There are feveral other Strokes in the Firft Book won- 
derfully poetical, and Inftances of that Sublime Genius 
fo peculiar to the Author. Such is the Defcription of 
Azazefs Stature, and of the Infernal Standard, which he 
unfurls ; and [as alfo] of that ghaftly Light, by which the 
Fiends appear to one another in their Place of Torments. 
The Seat of Defolatio7i, void of Light, 
Save what the glimmering of ih of e livid Flames 

Cajh pale and dreadful 

The Shout of the whole Hoft of fallen Angels when 
drawn up in Battle Array : 

The Univerfal Hofl up fent 

A Shout that tore Hells Concave, and beyond 
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 

The Review, which the Leader makes of his In- 
fernal Army : 

He thrd the armed files 

Darts his experienced eye, and foon traverfe 
The whole Battalio7i views, their order due. 
Their Vizages and Stature as of Gods, 
Their number lafil he f urns. And now his Heart 
Diflends with Pride, and hardening in his flrength 
Glories 

The Flafh of Light, which appeared upon the draw- 
ing of their Swords ; 

He f pake; and to confirm his words outflew 
Millions of flaming Swords, drawn from the Thighs 
Of mighty Cherubim/ the fudden blaze 
Far rowid illumirtd Hell 

The fudden Production of the Pandcemonium ; 

Anon out of the Earth a Fabrick huge 
Rofe like an Exhalation, with the Sound 
Of dulcet Symphonies and Voices fweet 
The Artificial Illuminations made in iu 



CRITICISM OF BOOK I. 57 

-From the arched Roof 



Pendent by fubtle Magick, many a Row 
Of Starry Lamps and blazing Crefcets, fed 
With Naptha a?id Afphaltus yielded Light 
As from a Sky 

There are alfo feveral noble Similes and Allufions 
in the firft Book of Paradife Lofl. And here I mufl 
obferve, that when Milto?i alludes either to Things or 
Perfons, he never quits his Simile till it rifes to fome 
very great Idea, which is often foreign to the Occafion 
which [that] gave Birth to it. The Refemblance does 
not, perhaps, laft above a Line or two, but the Poet 
runs on with the Hint, till he has raifed out of it fome 
glorious Image or Sentiment, proper to inflame the 
Mind of the Reader, and to give it that fublime kind 
of Entertainment, which is fuitable to the Nature of 
an Heroic Poem. Thofe, who are acquainted with 
Homer's and Virgil's way of Writing, cannot but be 
pleafed with this kind of Structure in Milton's Simili- 
tudes. I am the more particular on this Head, be- 
caufe ignorant Readers, who have formed their Tafle 
upon the quaint Similes, and little Turns of Wit, 
which are fo much in Vogue among Modern Poets, 
cannot relifh thefe Beauties which are of a much higher 
nature, and are therefore apt to cenfure Milton's Com- 
parifons, in which they do not fee any furprizing Points 
of Likenefs. Monfieur Perrault was a Man of this 
viciated Relifh, and for that very Reafon has endeavoured 
to turn into Ridicule feveral of Homer's Similitudes, 
which he calls Comparaifons a longne queue, Long-tail d 
Comparifons. I fhalL conclude this Paper on the Firft 
Book of Milton with the Anfwer which Monfieur 
Boileau makes to Perrault on this Occafion ; ' Com- 
' parifons, fays he, in Odes and Epic Poems are not 
c introduced only to illuftrate and embellifh the Dii- 
1 courfe, but to amufe and relax the Mind of th? 
* Reader, by frequently difengaging him from too 
'painful an Attention to the Principal Subject, and 



5§ CRITICISM OF BOOK L 

' by leading him into other agreeable Images. Ho- 
1 mer, fays he, excelled in this Particular, whole Com- 
' parifons abound with fuch Images of Nature as are 
•' proper to relieve and diverfme his Subjects. He 
' continually inftructs the Reader, and makes him 
' take notice, even in Objects which are every Day 
' before our Eyes, of fuch Circumftances as we fhould 
6 not otherwife have obferved. To this he adds, as a 
' Maxim \iniverfally acknowledged, that it is not necef- 
' fary in Poetry for the Points of the Comparifon to 
' correfpond with one another exactly, but that a 
' general Refemblance is fufficient, and that too much 
1 nicety in this Particular favours of the Rhetorician 
* and EpigrammatihV 

In fhort, if we look into the Conduct of Homer, 
Virgil and Milton, as the great Fable is the Soul of 
each Poem, fo to give their Works an agreeable 
Variety, their Epifodes are fo many fhort Fables, and 
their Similes fo many fhort Epifodes ; to which you 
may add, if you pleafe, that their Metaphors are fo 
many fhort Similes. If the Reader confiders the 
Comparifons in the Firft Book of Milton, of the Sun 
in an Eclipfe, of the Sleeping Leviathan, of the Bees 
fwarming about their Hive, of the Fairy Dance, in the 
view wherein I have here placed them, he will eafily 
difcover the great Beauties that are in each of thole 
Paffages. 



Numb. CCCIX. 

The SPECTATOR. 

D% quibus imperium eftanimarum, umbrcequefdentes, 
Et Chaos \ 6° Phlegethon, loca nocle fdentia late ; 
Sit mihifas audita loqui : fit numine veflro 
Pdndere res alta terra & caligine merfas. Virg. 

{ Ye Realms ', yet unreveaVd to human Sight, 

Ye Gods who rule the Regions of the Night, 

Ye gliding Ghofts, permit me to relate 

The myjlic Wonders of your fdent State. Dryden. ]■ 

Saturday, February 23. 17 12. 

Have before obferved in general, that the 
Perfons whom Milton introduces into his 
Poem always difcover fuch Sentiments and 
Behaviour, as are in a peculiar manner 
conformable to their refpective Characters. 
Every Circumflance in their Speeches and Actions, 
is with great juflnefs and delicacy adapted to the 
Perfons who fpeak and act. As the Poet very much 
excels in this Confiftency of his Characters, I mail 
beg leave to confider feveral Paffages of the Second 
Book in this Light. That fuperior Greatnefs and 
Mock-Majefty, which is afcribed to the Prince of the 
fallen Angels, is admirably preferved in the beginning 
of this Book. His opening and clofmg the Debate; his 
taking on himfelf that great Enterprize at the Thought 
of which the whole Infernal Affembly trembled ; his 
encountring the hideous Phantom who guarded the 
Gates of Hell, and appeared to him in all his Terrors, 
are Inflances of that proud and daring Mind which 
could not brook Submiffion even to Omnipotence. 

Satan was now at hand, and from his Seat 
The Monfltr moving onward came as fa ft 




60 CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 

With horrid filrides , Hell trembled as heflrode, 
TJi! undaunted Fiend what this might be admired, 
Admir'd) not fear 'd 

The fame Boldnefs and Intrepidity of Behaviour dif- 
covers it felf in the feveral Adventures which he meets 
with during his Paffage through the Regions of unform'd 
Matter, and particularly in his Addrefs to thofe tre- 
mendous Powers who are defcribed as prefiding over it. 

The Part of Moloch is likewife in all its Circum- 
ftances full of that Fire and Fury, which diflinguifh 
this Spirit from the reft of the fallen Angels. He 
is defcribed in the firft Book as befmear'd with the 
Blood of Human Sacrifices, and delighted with the 
Tears of Parents, and the Cries of Children. In the 
fecond Book he is marked out as the fiercer! Spirit 
that fought in Heaven ; and if we confider the Figure 
which he makes in the Sixth Book, where the Battel of 
the Angels is defcribed, we find it every way anfwer- 
able to the fame furious enraged Character. 

Where the might of Gabriel fought, 

And with fierce Enfigns pierdd the deep array 
Of Moloc, furious King, who him deffd, 
And at his chariot wheels to drag him bound 
Threaten 'd, nor from the Holy one of Heav'n 
Refrained his tongue blafphemous ; but anon 
Dow?i cloven to the wafle, with fhalter ] d arms 

And uncouth pain fled bellowing. 

It may be worth while to obferve, that Milton has 
reprefented this violent impetuous Spirit, who is 
hurried on by fuch precipitate Paffions, as the firjl 
that rifes in the Affembly, to give his Opinion upon 
their prefent Pofture of Affairs. Accordingly he de- 
clares himfelf abruptly for War, and appears incenfed 
at his Companions, for lofmg fo much time as even 
to deliberate upon it. All his Sentiments are Rain, 
Audacious and Delperate. Such is that of arming 
themfelves with their Tortures, and turning their 
Puniihments upon him who inflicted them. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IT. Si 

-No, let us rather chufe, 



Arm' d with Hell flames and 'fury ', all at once 
O'er Heavens high tow'rs to force refifllefs way^ 
Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
Againfl the Torturer; when to meet the Noife 
Of his almighty Engine hefhall hear 
Infernal Thunder •, and for Lightning fee 
Black fire and horror fhot with equal rage 
Among his Angels; a?id his throne it f elf 
Mixt with Tartarean Sulphur, and flrange fae, 
His own invented Torments^ 

His preferring Annihilation to Shame or Mifery, is 
alfo highly fuitable to his Character,, as the Comfort 
he draws from their difturbing the Peace of Heaven, 
namely, that if it be not Victory it is Revenge, is a 
Sentiment truly Diabolical, and becoming the Bitter- 
nefs of this implacable Spirit. 

Belial \s described, in the Firfl Book, as the Idol of 
the Lewd and Luxurious. He is in the Second Book, 
purfuant to that Defcription, characterized as timorous 
and flothful ; and if we look into the Sixth Book, we 
find him celebrated in the Battel of Angels for nothing 
but that Scoffing Speech which he makes to Satan, 
on their fuppofed Advantage over the Enemy. As 
his Appearance is uniform, and of a Piece, in thefe 
three feveral Views, we find his Sentiments in the 
Infernal Affembly every way conformable to his Cha- 
racter. Such are his Apprehenfions of a fecond Battel, 
his Horrors of Annihilation, his preferring to be 
miferable rather than not to be. I need not obferve, that 
the Contralt of Thought in this Speech, and that which 
precedes it, gives an agreeable Variety to the Debate. 

Mammorts Character is fo fully drawn in the Firft 
Book, that the Poet adds nothing to it in the Second. 
We were before told, that he was the firfl who taught 
Mankind to ranfack the Earth for Gold and Silver, 
and that he was the Architect of Pandcemonium, or 
the Infernal Palace, where the Evil Spirits were to 



62 CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 

meet in Council. His Speech in this Book is every 
way [where] fuitable to fo depraved a Character. How 
proper is that Reflection, of their being unable to tafle 
the Happinefs of Heaven were they actually there, 
in the Mouth of one, who while he was in Heaven, 
is faid to have had his Mind dazled with the outward 
Pomps and Glories of the Place, and to have been 
more intent on the Riches of the Pavement, than on 
the Beatifick Vifion. I mall alfo leave the Reader to 
judge how agreeable the following Sentiments are to 
the fame Character. 



-This deep world 



Of Darknefs do we dread ? How oft amidfi 
Thick cloud and dark doth Heavens all-ruling Sire 
Chufe to refide, his Glory unobfcured, 
And with the Majefly of darknefs round 
Covers his Throne; from 7vhence deep thunders roar 
Muflri77g their rage, and Heav'n refembles Hell? 
As he oicr darknefs, cannot we his light 
Imitate when we pleafe ? This defart Soil 
Wants not her hidden litfilre, Gems and Gold; 
Nor iua?itwe Skill or Art, from whence to raife 
Magnificence; and what can Heav'nfliew more ? 

Beelzebub, who is reckon'd the fecond in Dignity 
that fell, and is in the Firft Book, the fecond that 
awakens out of the Trance, and confers with Satan 
upon the fituation of their Affairs, maintains his Rank 
in the Book now before us. There is a wonderful 
Majefly defcribed in his rihng up to fpeak. He acts 
as a kind of Moderator between the two oppofite Parties, 
and propofes a third Undertaking, which the whole 
Affembly gives into. The Motion he makes of detaching 
one of their Body in fearch of a new World is grounded 
upon a Project devifed by Satan, and curforily pro- 
pofed by him in the following Lines of the firft Book. 

Space 7?tay produce new Worlds, whereof fo rife 
There went a fame in Heaven, that he e'er long 



CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 63 

Intended to create ', and therein plant 
A generation, whom his choice regard 
Should favour equal to the Sons of Heaven r 
Thither, if but to pry,fhall be perhaps 
Our firfl eruption, thither or elfewhere : 
For this infernal Pit fliall never hold 
Celeflial Spirits in bondage, nor iH Abyfs 
Long under Darknefs cover. But thefe thoughts 
Full Counfel mufl mature : 

It is on this Project that Beelzebub grounds his Pro- 
pofal. 

What if we find 

Some eafier enterprize ? There is a place 

{If ancient and prophetic fame in Heav'n 

Err not) another World, the happy Seat 

Offome new Race calPd Man, about this time 

To be created like to us, though lefs 

In power and excellence, but favoured more 

Of him who rules above; fo was his Will 

Fronoundd among the Gods, and by an oath, 

That fhook Heav'ns whole circumference, confined. 

The Reader may obferve how juft it was, not to 
omit in the Firft Book the Project upon which the 
whole Poem turns : As alfo that the Prince of the 
falFn Angels was the only proper Perfon to give it 
Birth, and that the next to him in Dignity was the fit- 
ter! to fecond and fupport it. 

There is befides, I think, fomething wonderfully 
beautiful, and very apt to affect the Reader's Imagi- 
nation, in this ancient Prophecy or Report in Heaven, 
concerning the Creation of Man. Nothing could 
fhew more the Dignity of the Species, than this Tra- 
dition which ran of them before their Exiflence. They 
are reprefented to have been the Talk of Heaven, be- 
fore they were created. Virgil, in compliment to the 
Roman Common-Wealth, makes the Heroes of it ap- 
pear in their State of Pre-exiftence ; But Milton does a 
far greater Honour to Mankind in general, as he giyes 
us a Glimpfe of them even before they are in Being. 



64 CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 

The riling of this great Affembly is defciibed in a 
very Sublime and Poetical manner. 

Their rifing all at oiice was as the found 
Of Thunder heard remote 

The Diverfions of the fallen Angels, with the parti- 
cular Account of their Place of Habitation, are de- 
fcribed with great Pregnancy of Thought, and Copiouf- 
nefs of Invention. The Diverfions are every way fuit- 
able to Beings who had nothing left them but Strength 
and Knowledge mifapplied. Such are their Conten- 
tions at the Race, and in Feats of Arms, with their En- 
tertainment in the following Lines. 

Others with vafl Typhaean rage more fell 
Rend up both Rocks and Hills, and ride the Air 
In Whirlwind; Hell fcarce holds the wild uproar. 

Their Mufick is employed in celebrating their own 
criminal Exploits, and their Difcourfe in founding the 
unfathomable Depths of Fate, Free-will, and Fore- 
knowledge. 

The feveral Circumftances in the Defcription of Hell 
are very finely imagined ; as the four Rivers which difgorge 
themfelves into the Sea of Fire, the Extreams of Cold 
and Heat, and the River of Oblivion. The monflrous 
Animals produced in that infernal World are reprefented 
by a fmgle Line, which gives us a more horrid Idea of 
them, than a much longer Defcription would have done. 

-Nature breeds, 



Perverfe, all monflrous, all prodigious things, 
Abominable, inutterable, and worie 
Than Fables yet have feign'd, or fear conceiv'd, 
Gorgons, a?id Hydra! s, and Chimera! s dire. 

This Epifode of the fallen Spirits, and their Place of 
Habitation, comes in very happily to unbend the 
Mind of the Reader from its Attention to the Debate. 
An ordinary Poet would indeed have fpun out fo many 



CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 65 

Circumflances to a great Length, and by that means 
have weaknedjinftead of illuftrated, the principal Fable. 

The Flight of Satan to the Gates of Hell is finely imaged. 

I have already declared my Opinion of the Allegory 
concerning Sin and Death, which is however a very 
finifhed Piece in its kind, when it is not confidered as 
a Part of an Epic Poem. The Genealogy of the 
feveral Perfons is contrived with great Delicacy. Sin 
is the Daughter of Satan, and Death the Offspring of 
Sin. The inceftuous Mixture between Sin and Death 
produces thofe Monfters and Hell-hounds which from 
time to time enter into their Mother, and tear the 
Bowels of her who gave them Birth. Thefe are the 
Terrors of an evil Confcience, and the proper Fruits 
of Sin, which naturally rife from the Apprehenfions of 
Death. This laft beautiful Moral is, I think, clearly 
intimated in the Speech of Sin, where complaining of 
this her dreadful Iffue, fhe adds, 

Before mine eyes in oppofition fits, 
Grim Death thy Son and foe, who fets them on. 
And me his Parent would f nil fo on devour 
For want of other prey, but that he knows 
His end with rnint involv'd 

I need not mention to the Reader the beautiful 
Circumftance in the laft Part of this Quotation. He 
will likewife obferve how naturally the three Perfons 
concerned in this Allegory are tempted by one common 
Intereft to enter into a Confederacy together, and how 
properly Sin is made the Portrefs of Hell, and the only 
Being that can open the Gates to that World of Tortures. 

The defcriptive Part of this Allegory is likewife 
very ftrong, and full of Sublime Ideas. The Figure 
of Death, [the Regal Crown upon his Head,] his Me- 
nace to Satan, his advancing to the Combat, the Out- 
cry at his Birth, are Circumflances too noble to be 
paft over in Silence, and extreamly fuitable to this 
King of Terrors. I need not mention the Juftnefs of 
Thought which is obferved in the Generation of thefe 



66 CRITICISM OF BOOK II. 

feveral Symbolical Perfons; that Sin was produced upon 
the firfl Revolt of Satan, that Death appeared foon 
after he was caft into Hell, and that the Terrors of 
Confcience were conceived at the Gate of this Place 
of Torments. The Defcription of the Gates is very- 
poetical, as the opening of them is full oi Milton's Spirit. 

On afudden open fly' 

With impetuous recoil and jarring found 
Tti infernal doors ', and on their hinges grate 
Harfli Thunder, that the lowcfl bottom fJwok 
Of Erebus. She opeiid, buttofJiut 
ExcelPd her Power; the Gates wide open flood, 
That with extended wings a banner 'd Hoft 
Under fpread JEnfigns marching might pafs through 
With Horfe and Chariots raiiHd i?i loofe array ; 
So wide they flood, and like a furnace mouth 
Caft forth redounding f mo ak and ruddy flame. 

In Satan's Voyage through the Chaos there are feveral 
Imaginary Perfons defcribed,as refidinginthat immenfe 
Wafte of Matter. This may perhaps be conformable 
to the Tafle of thofe Criticks who are pleafed with 
nothing in a Poet which has not Life and Manners 
afcribed to it ; but for my own part, I am pleafed 
moil with thofe Paffages in this Defcription which 
carry in them a greater Meafure of Probability, and 
are luch as might poflibly have happened. Of this 
kind is his firfl mounting in the Smoak that rifes 
from the infernal Pit : his falling into a Cloud of 
Nitre, and the like combuflible Materials, that by 
their Explofion flill hurried him forward in his 
Voyage ; his fpringing upward like a Pyramid of 
Fire, with his laborious Paffage through that Con- 
fufion of Elements, which the Poet calls 

The Womb of Nature and perhaps her Grave. 

The Glimmering Light which fhot into the Chaos 
from the utmofl Verge of the Creation, with the 
diflant Difcovery of the Earth that hung clofe by 
the Moon, are wonderfully beautiful and poetical. 



Numb. CCCXV. 

The SPECTATOR. 



Nee deus interfit, nifi digitus vindiee nodus 

Inciderit Hor. 

{Never prefume to make a God appear, 
But for a Bufmefs worthy of a God. Rofcommon. } 




Saturday, March i, 17 12. 



OR A CE advifes a Poet to confider .tho- 
roughly the Nature and Force of his 
Genius. Milton feems to have known, 
perfectly well, wherein his Strength lay, 
and has therefore chofen a Subject entirely 
conformable to thofe Talents, of which he was Mailer. 
As his Genius was wonderfully turned to the Sublime, 
his Subject is the noblelt that could have entered into 
the Thoughts of Man. Every thing that is truly great 
and aftonifhing, has a place in it. The whole Syftem 
of the intellectual World ; the Chaos, and the Crea- 
tion ; Heaven, Earth and Hell ; enter into the Con- 
ftitution of his Poem. 

Having in the Firfl and Second Book reprefented 
the Infernal World with all its Horrours, the Thread of 
his Fable naturally leads him into the oppofite Regions 
of Blifs and Glory. 

If Milton's Majefly forfakes him any where, it is in 
thofe Parts of his Poem, where the Divine Perfons are 
introduced as Speakers. One may, I think, obferve 
that the Author proceeds with a kind of Fear and 
Trembling, whilft he defcribes the Sentiments of the 
Almighty. He dares not give his Imagination its full 
Play, but chufes to confine himfelf to fuch Thoughts 
as are drawn from the Books of the moft Orthodox 
Divines, and to fuch Expreffions as may be met with 



68 CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 

in Scripture. The Beauties, therefore, which we are 
to look for in thefe Speeches, are not of a Poetical 
nature, or fo proper to fill the mind with Sentiments 
of Grandeur, as with Thoughts of Devotion. The 
Paffions, which they are defigned to raife, are a Divine 
Love and Religious Fear. The particular Beauty of 
the Speeches in the Third Book, confifls in that 1 
Shortnefs and Perfpicuity of Stile, in which the Poet 
has couched the greateft Myfleries of Chriftianity, and 
drawn together, in a regular Scheme, the whole Dif- 
penfation of Providence, with refpect to Man. He 
has reprefented all the abflrufe Doctrines of Predefti- 
nation, Free-will and Grace, as alfo the great Points of 
Incarnation and Redemption, (which naturally grow 
up in a Poem that treats of the Fall of Man,) with 
great Energy of Expreffion, and in a clearer and 
ftronger Light than I ever met with in any other 
Writer. As thefe Points are dry in themfelves to the 
generality of Readers, the concife and clear manner 
in which he has treated them, is very much to be 
admired, as is likewife that particular Art which he 
has made ufe of in the interfperfmg of all thofe 
Graces of Poetry, which the Subject was capable of 
receiving. 

The Survey of the whole Creation, and of every 
thing that is tranfacted in it, is a Profpect worthy of 
Omnifcience ; and as much above that, in which Virgil 
has drawn his Jupiter, as the Chriftian Idea of the 
Supream Being is more rational and Sublime than 
that of the Heathens. The particular Objects on 
which he is defcribed to have caft his Eye, are repre- 
fented in the moft beautiful and lively manner. 

Now had tft Almighty Father from above. 

From the pure Empyrean where he fits 

High throrid above all height, bent down his Eye, 

His own Works and their Works at o?ice to view. 

About him all the Sanclities of Heav'n 

Stood thick as Stars, and from his Sight received 



CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 69 

Beatitude pafl utterance: 0?i his right 
The radia7it image of his Glory fat, 
His only Son; On earth hefirfl beheld 
Oicr two firfl Parents ; yet the only two 
Of Mankind, in the happy garden plac'd, 
Reaping immortal fruits of Joy and love, 
Uninterrupted j oy , unrivaVd love, 
In blifsful Solitude; he then furvefd 
Hell and the Gulf between, and Satan there 
Coafling the Wall of Heaven on this fide night 
In the dun air ficb lime, and ready now 
To filoop with wearied wings, and willing feet 
On the bare outfide of this world, that fee m'd 
Firm land imbofom'd without fir mame?tt, 
Uncertain which, in Ocean or in Air, 
Him God beholding from his profpecl high, 
Wherein pafl, prefent, future he beholds, 
Thus to his only Son forefeeing fpake. 

Satan's Approach to the Confines of the Creation, 
is finely imaged in the beginning of the Speech, 
which immediately follows. The Effects of this Speech 
in the bleffed Spirits, and in the Divine Perfon,to whom 
it was addreffed, cannot but fill the Mind of the Reader 
with a fecret Pleafure and Complacency. 

Thus while God fpake, ambrofial 'fragrance fill } d 
All Heav'n, and in the bleffed Spirits elect 
Senje of new Joy ineffable diffus' d : 
Beyond compare the Son of God was feen 
Mofil glorious, in him all his Father fihone 
Subftantially exprefs'd; and in his face 
Divine Compaffion vifibly appeared, 
love without end, and without meafure Grace. 

I need not point out the Beauty of that Circumftance, 
wherein the whole Hoft of Angels are reprefented as 
{landing Mute ; nor fhew how proper the Occafion 
was to produce fuch a Silence in Heaven. The Clofe 
of this Divine Colloquy* with the Hymn of Angels 



JO CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 

that follows upon it, are fo wonderfully beautiful and 
poetical, that I fhould not forbear inferring the whole 
Paffage, if the bounds of my Paper would give me i 
leave. 

Nofooner had th? Ahnighty ceased, but all 
The mu Ititude of Angels with afJiout 
Loud as from numbers without number, fweet 
As from blefl Voices, uttering Joy, Heav'n rung 
. With Jubilee, and loud Hofamtds filVd 
Th' eternal regions ; &c. &c. 

Sata?i's Walk upon the Outfide of the Univerfe, 
which, at a Diftance, appeared to him of a globular 
Form, but, upon his nearer Approach, looked like an 
unbounded Plain, is natural and noble : As his roa m- 
ing upon the Frontiers of the Creation, between tl at 
Mafs of Matter, which was wrought into a World, and 
that fhapelefs unform'd Heap of Materials, which ftill 
lay in Chaos and Confufion, ftrikes the Imaginat ion 
with fomething aftonifhingly great and wild. I have 
before fpoken of the Limbo of Vanity, which the Poet 
places upon this outermofl Surface of the Univerfe, 
and mall here explain my felf more at large on that, 
and other Parts of the Poem, which are of the fame 
Shadowy nature. 

Ariflotle obferves, that the Fable of an Epic Poem 
mould abound in Circumflances that are both credible 
and aftonifhing : or as the French Critics chufe to 
phrafe it, the Fable fhould be rilled with the Probable 
and the Marvellous. This Rule is as fine and juft as 
any in Ariflotli% whole Art of Poetry. 

If the Fable is only probable, it differs nothing from 
a true Hiflory ; if it is only Marvellous, it is no better 
than a Romance. The great Secret therefore of 
Heroic Poetry is to relate fuch Circumflances, as may 
produce in the Reader at the fame time both Belief and 
Aftonifhment. This often happens [is brought to pafs] 
in a well chofen Fable, by the Account of fuch things as 
have really happened, or at leaft of fuch things as have 



CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 7 1 

happen'd, according to the received Opinions of 
Mankind. Milton's Fable is a Mafter-piece of this 
Nature ; as the War in Heaven, the Condition of the 
fallen Angels, the State of Innocence, the Temptation 
of the Serpent, and the Fall of Man, though they are 
very aftonifhing in themfelves, are not only credible, 
but actual Points of Faith. 

The next Method of reconciling Miracles with 
Credibility, is by a happy Invention of the Poet ; as 
in particular, when he introduces Agents of a fuperior 
Nature, who are capable of effecting what is wonderful, 
and what is not to be met with in the ordinary courfe 
of things. Ulyffes's Ship being turned into a Rock, and 
ALneas\ Fleet into a Shoal of Water Nymphs, though 
they are very furprizing Accidents, are neverthelefs 
probable, when we are told that they were the Gods 
who thus transformed them. It is this kind of 
Machinery which fills the Poems both of Homer and 
Virgil with fuch Circumftances as are wonderful, but 
not impoffible, and fo frequently produce in the 
Reader the moil pleafmg Paffion that can rife in the 
Mind of Man, which is Admiration. If there be any 
Inflance in the ALneid liable to Exception upon this 
Account, it is in the beginning of the third Book, 
where Apneas is reprefented as tearing up the Myrtle 
that dropped Blood. To qualifie this wonderful Cir- 
cumflance, Polydorus tells a Story from the Root of 
the Myrtle, that the barbarous inhabitants of the 
Country having pierced him with Spears and Arrows, 
the Wood which was left in his Body took Root in 
his Wounds, and gave birth to that bleeding Tree. 
This Circumflance feems to have the Marvellous 
without the Probable, becaufe it is reprefented as pro- 
ceeding from Natural Caufes, without the Interpofition 
of any God, or rather Supernatural Power capable of 
producing it. The Spears and Arrows grow of them- 
felves, without fo much as the Modern help of an 
Enchantment. If we look into the Fiction of Milton's 
Fable, though we find it full of furprizing Incidents, 



72 K CRITICISM OF BOOK IIL 

they are generally fuited to our Notions of the Things 
and Perfons defcribed, and temper'd with a due 
meafure of Probability. I mufl only make an Excep- 
tion to the Lymbo of Vanity, with his Epifode of Sin 
and Death, and fome of the imaginary Perfons in his 
Chaos. Thefe Paffages are aftonifhing, but not 
credible ; the Reader cannot fo far impofe upon him- 
felf as to fee a Poflibility in them; they are the 
Defcription of Dreams and Shadows, not of Things or 
Perfons. I know that many Critics look upon the 
Stories of Circe, Polyphcme, the Sirens, nay the whole 
Odyffey and Iliad, to be Allegories ; but allowing this 
to be true, they are Fables, which confidering the 
Opinions of Mankind that prevailed in the Age of the 
Poet, might pofiibly have been according to the Letter. 
The Perfons are fuch as might have ac~led what is 
afcribed to them, as the Circumflances in which they 
are reprefented, might poffibly have been Truths and 
Realities. This appearance of Probability is fo 
abfolutely requifite in the greater kinds of Poetry, 
that Ari/Iotle obferves the Ancient Tragick Writers 
made ufe of the Names of fuch great Men as had ac- 
tually lived in the World, tho' the Tragedy proceeded 
upon fuch Adventures they were never engaged in, 
on purpofe to make the Subject more Credible. In a 
Word, befides the hidden Meaning of an EpicAllegory, 
the plain literal Senfe ought to appear probable. The 
Story mould be fuch as an ordinary Reader may 
acquiefce in, whatever Natural Moral or Political 
Truth may be difcovered in it by Men of greater 
Penetration. 

Satan, after having long wandered upon the Surface, 
or outmoft Wall of the Univerfe, difcovers at lafl a 
wide Gap in it, which led into the Creation, and which* 
is defcribed as the Opening through which the Angels 
pafs to and fro into the lower World, upon their 
Errands to Mankind. His Sitting upon the brink of 
this Paffage, and taking a Survey of the whole Face of 
Nature that appeared to him new and frefh in all its 



CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 73 

Beauties, with the Simile illuftrating this Circumftance. 
fills the Mind of the Reader with as furprifing and 
glorious an Idea as any that arifes in the whole Poem. 
He looks down into that vail hollow of the Univerfe 
with the Eye, or (as Milton calls it in his firft Book) 
with the Kenn of an Angel. He furveys all the Wonders 
in this immenfe Amphitheatre that lie between both 
the Poles of Heaven, and takes in at one View the 
whole Round of the Creation. 

His Flight between the feveral Worlds that mined 
on every fide of him, with the particular Defcription 
of the Sun, are fet forth in all the wantonnefs of a 
luxuriant Imagination. His Shape, Speech and Beha- 
viour upon his transforming himfelf into an Angel of 
Light, are touched with exquifite Beauty. The Poet's 
Thought of directing Satan to the Sun, which in the 
Vulgar Opinion of Mankind is the moft confpicuous 
Part of the Creation, and the placing in it an Angel, is 
a Circumftance very finely contriv'd, and the more 
adjufled to a Poetical Probability, as it was a receiv'd 
Doctrine among the moft famous Philofophers, that 
every Orb had its Intelligence \ and as an Apoftle in 
Sacred Writ is faid to have feen fuch an Angel in the 
Sun. In the Anfwer which this Angel returns to the 
difguifed Evil Spirit, there is fuch a becoming Majefty 
as is altogether fuitable to a Superior Being. The part 
of it in which he reprefents himfelf as prefent at the 
Creation, is very noble in it felf, and not only proper 
where it is introduced, but requifite to prepare the 
Reader for what follows in the Seventh Book. 

I faw when at his word theformlefs Mafs, 
This worlds material mould, came to a heap : 
Confufwn heard his voice, and wild uproar 
Stood ruPd, flood vail infinitude confirtd; 
Till at his fecond bidding darknefs fled, 
light fhon, &c. 

In the following part of the Speech he points out 
the Earth with fuch Circumftances, that the Reader 



74 CRITICISM OF BOOK III. 

can fcarce forbear fancying himfelf employ'd on the 
fame diftant view of it. 

Look downward on that Globe, whofe hither fide 
With light from hence, tho' but ?'eficcled, fJiines ; 
That place is Earth, the Seat of man, that light 
His day, &c. 

I muft not conclude my Reflections upon this Third 
Book of Paradife Loft, without taking notice of that 
celebrated Complaint of Milton with which it opens, 
and which certainly deferves all the Praifes that have 
been given it ; tho' as I have before hinted, it may 
rather be looked upon as an Excrefcence, than as an 
effential Part of the Poem. The fame Obfervation 
might be applied to that beautiful Digreffion upon 
Hypocriiie, in the fame Book. 




Numb. CCCXXI. 

The SPECTATOR. 

Nee fatis eft pulchra effe poemata, dulcia fiinto. Hor. 

VTis not enough a Poem } s finely writ; 
It nuift ajfeel and captivate the Soul. } 

Saturday, March 8. 17 12. 



|HOSE, who know how many Volumes have 
been written on the Poems of Homer and 
Virgil, will ealily pardon the Length of my 
Difcourfe upon Milton. The Paradife Loft 
is look'd upon, by the befl Judges, as the 
greatefl Production, or at leaf! the nobleft Work of 
Genius, in our Language, and therefore deferves to be 
fet before an Englifti Reader in its full Beauty. For 
this Reafon, tho' I have endeavoured to give a 
general Idea of its Graces and Imperfections in my Six 
Firft Papers, I thought my felf obliged to beftow one upon 
every Book in particular. The Three Firft Books I have 
already difpatched, and am now entring upon the 
Fourth. I need not acquaint my Reader, that there are 
Multitudes of Beauties in this great Author, efpecially 
in the Defcriptive Parts of his Poem, which I have not 
touched upon, it being my Intention to point out thofe 
only, which appear to me the moil exquifite, or thofe 
which are not fo obvious to ordinary Readers. Every 
one that has read the Cri ticks, who have written upon the 
Odyffey, the Iliad and the ALneid, knows very well, that 
though they agree in their Opinions of the great Beau- 
ties in thofe Poems, they have neverthelefs each of them 
difcovered feveral Mafter-Stroaks, which have efcaped 
the Obfervation of the reft. In the fame manner, I 
queftion not, but any Writer, who fhall treat of this 
Subject after me, may find feveral Beauties in Milton, 



76 CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 

which I have not taken notice of. I mufl likewife ob- 
ferve, that as the greateft Mailers of Critical Learning 
differ from one another, as to fome particular Points in 
an Epic Poem, I have not bound my felf fcrupuloufly to 
the Rules, which any one of them has laid down upon 
that Art, but have taken the Liberty fometimes to join 
with one, and fometimes with another, and fometimes 
to differ from all of them, when I have thought that the 
Reafon of the thing was on my fide. 

We may confider the Beauties of the Fourth Book 
under three Heads. In the Firft are thofe Pictures of 
Still-Life, which we meet with in the Defcriptions of Eden, 
Paradife, Adam's Bower, &°c. In the next are the 
Machines, which comprehend the Speeches and Beha- 
viour of the good and bad Angels. In the laft is the 
Conduct of Adam zndEve, who are the principal Actors 
in the Poem. 

In the Defcription of Paradife, the Poet has obferved 
Ariflotle's Rule of lavifhing all the Ornaments of Diction 
on the weak unactive Parts of the Fable, which are not 
fupported by the Beauty of Sentiments and Characters. 
Accordingly the Reader may obferve, that the Expref- 
fions are more florid and elaborate in thefe Defcriptions, 
than in mo ft other Parts of the Poem. I muft further 
add, that tho' the Drawings of Gardens, Rivers, 
Rainbows, and the like dead Pieces of Nature, are 
juftly cenfured in an Heroic Poem, when they run out 
into an unneceffary length ; the Defcription of Para- 
dife would have been faulty, had not the Poet been very 
particular in it, not only as it is the Scene of the prin- 
cipal Action, but as it is requifite to give us an Idea of 
that Happinefs from which our firft Parents fell. The 
Plan of it is wonderfully beautiful, and formed upon the 
fhort Sketch which we have of it, in Holy Writ. Miltoits 
Exuberance of Imagination, has pour'd forth fuch a 
redundancy of Ornaments on this Seat of Happinefs 
and Innocence, that it would be endlefs to point out 
each Particular. 

I. muft not quit this Head, without further obferving, 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 77 

that there is fcarce a Speech of Adam or Eve in the 
whole Poem, wherein the Sentiments and Allufions 
are not taken from this their delightful Habitation. 
The Reader, during their whole Courfe of Action, 
always finds himfelf in the Walks of Paradije. In fhort, 
as the Criticks have remarked, that in thofe Poems, 
wherein Shepherds are Actors, the Thoughts ought 
always to take a Tincture from the Woods, Fields, and 
Rivers ; fo we may obferve, that our firfl Parents fel- 
donl lofe Sight of their happy Station in any thing 
they fpeak or do ; and, if the Reader will give me 
leave to ufe the Expreffion, that their Thoughts are 
always Paradifiacal. 

We are in the next place to confider the Machines 
of the Fourth Book. Satan being now within Prof- 
peel; of Eden, and looking round upon the Glories of 
the Creation, is filled with Sentiments different from 
thofe which he difcovered whilfl he was in Hell. The 
Place infpires him with Thoughts more adapted to it : 
He reflects upon the happy Condition from whence he 
fell, and breaks forth into a Speech that is foftned 
with feveral tranfient Touches of Remorfe and Self- 
accufation : But at length he confirms himfelf in Im- 
penitence, and in his defign of drawing Man into his 
own State of Guilt and Mifery. This Conflict of 
Paffions is raifed with a great deal of Art, as the open- 
ing of his Speech to the Sun is very bold and noble. 

O thou that with furpqffing Glory crowned 
Look' ft from thy Sole Dominion like the God 
Of this new World, at whofe Sight all the Stars 
Hide their diminiftid heads, to thee I call 
But with no Friendly Voice, and add thy name, 

Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams 

That bring to my remembrance from what State 

1 fell, how glorious once above thy Sphere. 

This Speech is, I think, the fineft that is afcribed 
to Satan in the whole Poem. The Evil Spirit after- 
wards proceeds to make his Difcoveries concerning 



%S CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 

our firft Parents, and to learn after what manner they 
may be beft attacked. His bounding over the Walls 
of Paradife \ his fitting in the Shape of a Cormorant 
upon the Tree of Life, which flood in the Center of it, 
and over- topp'd all the other Trees of the Garden; his 
alighting among the Herd of Animals, which are fo 
beautifully reprefented as playing about Adam and Eve, 
together with his transforming himfelf into different 
Shapes, in order to hear their Converfation ; are Cir- 
cumflances that give an agreeable Surprize to the 
Reader, and are devifed with great Art, to connect that 
Series of Adventures in which the Poet has engaged 
this great Artificer of Fraud. 

[The Thought of Sata/i's Transformation into a Cor- 
morant, and placing himfelf on the Tree of Life, feems 
raifed upon that Paffage in the Iliad, where two Deities 
are defcribed, as perching on the Top of an Oak in 
the Shape of Vulturs.] 

His planting himfelf at the Ear of Eve in the fhape 
[under the Form] of a Toad, in order to produce vain 
Dreams and Imaginations, is a Circumftance of the 
fame Nature ; as his flarting up in his own Form is won- 
derfully fine, both in the Literal Defcription, and in the 
Moral which is concealed under it. His Anfwer upon 
his being difcovered, and demanded to give an Account 
of himfelf, are [is] conformable to the Pride and Intre- 
pidity of his Character. 

Know ye not then, /aid Satan, filPd with Scorn, 
Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate 
For y oil, fitting where you durjl not f oar e; 
Not to know me argues your-f elves unknown. 
The lowejl of your throng; 

Zephoris Rebuke, with the Influence it had on Satan, 
is exquifitely Graceful and Moral. Satan is afterwards 
led away to Gabriel, the chief of the Guardian Angels, 
who kept watch in Paradife. His difdainful Behaviour 
on this occafion is fo remarkable a Beauty, that the 
mofl ordinary Reader cannot but take notice of it. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 79 

Gabriel's difcovering his approach at adiftance,isdrawn 
with great flrength and livelinefs of Imagination. 

Friends ) I hear the tread of nimble Feet 
Hajlening this way, and now by glimps difcern 
Ithuriel and Zephon through thejhade; 
And with them comes a third of Regal Fort, 
But faded fplendor wan ; who by his gait 
And fierce demeanour feems the Prince of Hell, 
Not likely to part hence without contefl; 
Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours. 

The Conference between Gabriel and Satan abounds 
with Sentiments proper for the Occafion, and fuitable 
to the Perfons of the two Speakers. Satan's cloathing 
himfelf with Terror when he prepares for the Combat 
is truly fublime, and at leaft equal to Homer's Defcrip- 
tion of Difcord celebrated by Longinus, or to that of 
Fame in Virgil, who are both reprefented with their 
Feet Handing upon the Earth, and their Heads reach- 
ing above the Clouds. 

While thus he f pake, th' Angelic Squadron bright 
Turn' d fiery red, fliarpning in mooned Horns 
Their Phalanx, and began to hem him roimd 

With ported Spears, &c. 

On th' other Side, Satan alarm' d, 

Collecting all his might dilated flood 

Like TenerirT or Atlas unremov'd. 

His Staticre reach 'd the Sky, and on his Crefl 

Sat horrour plum 'd ; 

1 muft here take notice, that Milton is every where 
full of Hints, and fometimes literal Tranflations, taken 
from the greateft of the Greek and Latin Poets. But 
this I fhall [may] referve for a Difcourfe by it felf, be- 
caufe I would not break the Thread of thefe Specula- 
tions that are defigned for Fnglifh Readers, with such 
Reflections as would be of no ufe but to the Learned. 

I muft however obferve in this Place, that the break- 
ing off the Combat between Gabriel 'and Satan, by the 



So CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 

hanging out of the Golden Scales in Heaven, is a Re- 
finement upon Homer's Thought, who tells us, that 
before the Battel between Heclor and Achilles, Jupiter 
weighed the Event of it in a pair of Scales. The 
Reader may fee the whole Paffage in the 2 2d Iliad. 

Virgil, before the lail decifive Combat, defcribes 
Jupiter in the fame manner, as weighing the Fates of 
Turnus and Apneas. Milton, though he fetched this 
beautiful Circumflance from the Iliad and JEneid, 
does not only infert it as a Poetical Embellifhment, 
like the Authors above-mentioned ; but makes an 
artful ufe of it for the proper carrying on of his Fable, 
and for the breaking off the Combat between the two 
Warriors, who were upon the point of engaging. [To 
this we may further add, that Milton is the more 
juflified in this Paffage, as we find the fame noble 
Allegory in Holy Writ, where a wicked Prince, {fome 
few Hours before he was affaulted and llain,} is faid to 
have been weigtid i?i the Scales a?id to have been Jound 
wanting.] 

I mull here take Notice under the Head of the 
Machines, that Uriels, gliding down to the Earth 
upon a Sun-beam, with the Poet's Device to make 
him dcfcend, as well in his return to the Sun, as in 
his coming from it, is a Prettinefs that might have 
been admired in a little fanciful Poet, but feems below 
the Genius of Milton. The Defcription of the Hofl 
of armed Angels walking their nightly Round in 
Paradije, is of another Spirit. 

So Jciying, on he led his radiant files, 
Dazling the Moon; ■ 

As that Account of the Hymns which our firft Parents 
ufed to hear them Sing in thefe their Midnight Walks, 
is altogether Divine, and inexpreffibly amufing to the 
Imagination. 

We are, in the lafl place, to confider the Parts 
which Adam and Eve ac~l in the Fourth Book. The 
Defcription of them as they firfl appear'd to Satan, is 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 8 1 

exquifitely drawn, and fufficient to make the fallen 
Angel gaze upon them with all that Aftonifhment, and 
thofe Emotions of Envy, in which he is reprefented. 

Two of far ?ioblcr Shape erecl: and tall 
God-like erecl, with native honour clad 
J 7t naked majefly feenid lords of 'ah \ 
And worthy feem'd, for in their looks divine 
The image of their glorious Maker Jlion, 
Truth, Wifdom, Sanclitude fever e and pure; 
Severe, but in true filial freedoni plac'd : 
For contemplation he and valour form' d, 
For scftnefs flie and fweet attractive Grace; 
He for God only, flie for God in him: 
His fair large front, and eyefublime declared 
* Abfolute rule, and Hyacinthin Locks 
Round from his parted forelock many hung 
Cluflring, but not beneath his Shoulders broad: 
She as a Vail dow?i to her flender wafle 
Her unadorned golden treffes vvore 
DiffheveVd, but in wanton ringlets watfd. 
So pafs'd they riaked on, nor fliwjd the Sight , 
Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill: 
So hand in hand they pafs'd, the loveliefl pair 
That ever fence in loves embraces met. 

There is a fine Spirit of Poetry in the Lines which 
follow, wherein they are defcrib'd as fitting on a Bed 
of Flowers by the side of a Fountain, amidfl a mixed 
Affembly of Animals. 

The Speeches of thefe two firft Lovers flow equally 
from Paffion and Sincerity. The Profeffions they 
make to one another are full of Warmth ; but at the 
fame time founded on Truth. In a Word, they are 
me Gallantries of Paradife. 

— When Adam firfl of Men 

Sole Partner and fole part of all thefe joys % 

Dearer thy f elf than all ; 

But let us ever praife him, and extol 
His bounty, following our delightful task, 

F 



%2 CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. 

To prune thofe growing plants ', a?id tend thefe flower s, 
Which were it toilfome, yet with thee werefweet. 
To whom thus Eve replied : O thou for whom 
And from whom 1 was form } d, flefJi of thy flefli, 
And without whom am to no end, my Guide 
And head, what thou hafl fa id is j lift and right 
For we to him indeed all praifes owe, 
And daily thanks, I chiefly who enjoy 
So far the happier Lot, enjoying thee 
Preemiiwit by fo much odds, while thou 
Like confort to thy felf canfl no where find, &c. 
The remaining part of Jive's Speech, in which me 
gives an Account of her felf upon her firft Creation, 
and the manner in which fhe was brought to Adam, 
is I think as beautiful a Paffage as any in Milton, or 
perhaps in any other Poet whatfoever. Thefe Paffages 
are all work'd off with fo much Art, that they are 
capable of pleafmg the moft delicate Reader, without 
offending the moil fevere. 

That day Loft remember, when from Sleep, &c. 

A Poet of lefs Judgment and Invention than this 
great Author, would have found it very difficult to have 
rilled thofe [thefe] tender parts of the Poem with Senti- 
ments proper for a State of Innocence ; to have de- 
fcribed the warmth of Love, and the Profefhons of it, 
without Artifice or Hyperbole ; to have made the Man 
fpeak the moft endearing things, without defcending 
from his natural Dignity, and the Woman receiving 
them without departing from the Modefty of her 
Character; in a word, to adjuft the Prerogatives of 
Wifdom and Beauty, and make each appear to the 
other in its proper Force and Lovelinefs. This mutual 
Subordination of the two Sexes is wonderfully kept 
up in the whole Poem, as particularly in the Speech 
of Eve I have before-mentioned, and upon the Con- 
clufion of it in the following Lines : — 

So fpake our general Mother, and with eyes 

Of Conjugal attraclion unreprov'd, 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IV. S3 

And meek surre?ider, half embracing leaned 
On our firft father, half her fw effing breafl 
Naked met his under the flowing Gold 
Of her loofe trejfes hid; he in delight 
Both of her beauty and fubmiffive charms 
SmiFd with Superionr Love, 

The Poet adds, that the Devil turn'd away with 
Envy at the fight of fo much Happinefs. 

We have another View of our Firft Parents in their 
Evening Difcourfes, which is full of pleafmg Images 
and Sentiments fuitable to their Condition and Cha- 
racters. The Speech of Eve, in particular, is drefs'd 
up in such a foft and natural Turn of Words and 
Sentiments, as cannot be fufficiently admired. 

I mail clofe my Reflections upon this Book, with 
obferving the Mailerly Tranfition which the Poet makes 
to their Evening Worfhip, in the followingLines : — 

Thus at their fliadie lodge arrived, both flood, 
Both turn'd, and under open Sky ador'd 
The God that made both Sky, Air, Earth and Heav'n, 
Which they beheld, the Moons refplendeyit Globe, 
And Starry Pole: Thou alfo mad'ft the night, 
Maker omnipotent and thou the Day, &*c. 

Moil of the Modern Heroic Poets have imitated the 
Ancients, in beginning a Speech without premifmg, 
that the Perfon faid thus or thus ; but as it is eafie to 
imitate the Ancients in the Omiffion of two or three 
Words, it requires Judgment to do it in fuch a man- 
ner as they mail not be mifs'd, and that the Speech 
may begin naturally without them. There is a fine 
Inflance of this Kind out of Homer, in the Twenty- 
Third Chapter of Longinus. 




Numb. CCCXXVIL 

The SPECTATOR. 

major rerum mihi nafcitur or do. Virg. 




{A larger Scene of Aclion is difplayd. Dryden.} 



Saturday, March 15, 17 12. 



BE were told in the foregoing Book how the 
Evil Spirit practifed upon Eve as fhe lay 
afleep, in order to infpire her with 
Thoughts of Vanity, Pride and Ambition. 
The Author, who mews a wonderful Art 
throughout his whole Poem, in preparing the Reader 
for the feveral Occurrences that arife in it, founds 
upon, the above-mentioned Circumflance the firfl 
part of the Fifth Book. Adam upon his awaking, 
finds Eve ftill afleep, with an unufual Difcompofure 
in her Looks. The Poflure in which he regards her, 
is defcribed with a wonderful Tendernefs [not to be 
expreffed*]f ,as the Whifperwith which he awakens her, 
is the fofteft that ever was conveyed to a Lover's Ears 

His wonder was to find unwakeiid Eve 
With Treffes difcomposd and glowing cheek 
As through unquiet reft: he 011 his side 
Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love 
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld 
Beaitty, which whether waking or afleep, 
Shot forth peculiar Graces ; then with voice 
Mild, as when Zephyrus or Flora breathes, 
Her hand foft touching, whifper'd thus. Awake 
My fair eft, my efpous'd, my latefil found, 
Heav'ns lafil befil gift, my ever new delight, 
Awake, the morning fhi7ies, and the frefli field 

+ See Errata, at the end of No. 369, in the original issue 



CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 85 

Calls us, we lofe the prime, to mark how fpring 
Our tended plants, how blows the Citron Grove, 
What drops the Myrrhe, and what the balmie Reed, 
How Nature paints her colours, how the Bee 
Sits on the bloom, extracli?tg liquid fweet. 
Such whifpring wak'd her, but withflartled Eye, 
On Adam, whom embracing thus Jhe fpake. 

O Sole in whom my thoughts find all repoje, 
My Glory, my perfection, glad I fee 
Thy face, and morn return 'd 

I cannot but take notice that Milton, in his Con- 
ferences between Adam and Eve, had his Eye very 
frequently upon the Book of Canticles, in which there 
is a noble Spirit of Eaftern Poetry, and very often 
not unlike what we meet with in Homer, who is gene- 
rally placed near the Age of Solomon. I think there 
is no queftion but the Poet in the preceding Speech 
,remembred thofe two Paffages which are Jfpoken on 
the like occafion, and fill'd with the fame pleafmg 
Images of Nature. 

My beloved fpake, and f aid unto me, Rife up, my love, 
my fair one, and conie away ; For lo, the winter is pafil, 
the rain is over and gone; the Flowers appear on the 
earth; the time of the finging of birds is come, and the 
Voice of the Turtle is heard in our Land. The Fig-tree 
putteth forth her green figs, and the Vines with the~ tender 
grape give a good fmell. Arife, my love, my fair one, 
and come away. 

Come, my beloved, let us go forth into the Field; 
let us get up early to the Vineyards, let us fee if the 
Vine fiourifh, whether the te?ider Grape appear, and 
the Pomegranates bud forth. 

His preferring the Garden of Eden to that 



Where the Sapient King 

Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian Spoufe, 

(hews that the Poet had this delightful Scene in his 
Mind. 



86 CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 

Eve's Dream is full of thofe high Conceits engendrin^ 
Pride, which we are told the Devil endeavoured to 
inftil into her. Of this kind is that part of it where 
fhe fancies her felf awaken'd by Adam in the follow- 
ing beautiful Lines. 

Why fleeftjl thou, Eve ? now is the p leaf ant time, 
The cool, the ftlent, fave where f Hence yields 
To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 
Tunes fweetejl his Love-labour 'd song; now reigns 
Full orVd the moon, and with more pleafing light 
Shadowy fets off the face of tlmigs ; in vain 
If none regard; Ileav'n wakes with all his eyes, 
Whom to behold but thee, Natures defire, 
In whofe fight all things joy, with ravifJiment 
Attracled by thy beauty fl ill to gaze. 

An injudicious Poet would have made Adam talk 
through the whole Work, in fuch Sentiments as this 
[thefe]. But Flattery and Falfhood are not the Courtlhip 
of Milton's Adam, and cou'd not be heard by Eve in 
her State of Innocence, excepting only in a Dream 
produced on purpofe to taint her Imagination. Other 
vain Sentiments of the fame kind in this relation of 
her Dream, will be obvious to every Reader. Tho' 
the Cataftrophe of the Poem is finely prefaged on 
this occafion, the Particulars of it are fo artfully 
(hadow'd, that they do not anticipate the Story which 
follows in the Ninth Book. I mail only add, that 
tho' the Vifion it felf is founded upon Truth, the 
Circumflances of it are full of that Wildnefs and In- 
confiftency which are natural to a Dream. Adam, 
conformable to his fuperior Character for Wifdom, 
inftruc~ls and comforts Eve upon this occafion. 

So chear'd he his fair Spoufe, and fhe was chear'd, 
But f dent ly a gentle tear let fall 
Fi'om either eye, and wiped them with her hair; 
Two other precious drops that ready flood, 
Each in their chryflal fluke, he e'er they fell 



CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 87 

Kifsd as the gracious Signs of fweet remorfe 
And pious awe, that feared to have offended. 

The Morning Hymn is written in Imitation of one 
of thofe Pfalms, where, in the Overflowings of his Grati- 
tude and Praife, the Pfalmift calls not only upon the 
Angels, but upon the moft confpicuous parts of the 
inanimate Creation, to join with him in extolling their 
Common Maker. Invocations of this Nature fill 
the Mind with glorious Ideas of God's Works, and 
awaken that Divine Enthufiafm, which is fo natural to 
Devotion. But if this calling upon the dead parts of 
Nature, is at all times a proper kind of Worfhip, 
it was in a particular manner fuitable to our firfl 
Parents, who had the Creation frefh upon their 
Minds, and had not feen the various Difpenfations 
of Providence, nor confequently could be acquainted 
with thofe many Topicks of Praife which might afford 
matter to the Devotions of their Pofterity. I need 
not remark that* [the] beautiful Spirit of Poetry which 
runs through this whole Hymn, nor the Holinefs of 
that Refolution with which it concludes. 

Having already mentioned thofe Speeches which are 
affigned to the Perfons in this Poem, I proceed to the 
Defcription which the Poet gives us* of Raphael. His 
Departure from before the Throne, and his Flight thro ? 
the Quires [Choirs] of Angels, is finely imaged. As 
Milton every where fills his Poem with Circumltances 
that are marvellous and aflonilhing, he defcribes the 
Gate of Heaven as framed after fuch a manner, that 
it open'd of it felf upon the approach of the Angel 
who was to pafs through it 

Hill at the gate 

Of Heav'n arrived, the gate felf open 'd wide. 
On golden Hinges turning, as by work 
Divine the Sovereign Architecl hadfi'anHd. 

The Poet here feems to have regarded two or three 
Paffages in the eighteenth Iliad, as that in particu- 



55 . CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 

lar where, fpeaking of Vulcan, Homer fays, that he had 
made Twenty Tripodes, running on Golden Wheels, 
which, upon Occafion, might go of themfelves to the 
Affembly of the Gods, and, when there was no more ufe 
for them, return again after the fame manner. Scali- 
ger has rallied Homer very feverely upon this Point, 
as Monf. Dacier has endeavoured to defend it. I will 
not pretend to determine, whether in this Particular 
of Homer, the Marvellous does not lofe sight of the 
Probable. As the miraculous Workmanfhip of Mil- 
torts Gates is not fo extraordinary as this of the Tri- 
podes, fo I am perfwaded he would not have men- 
tioned it, had not he been fupported in it by a Paffage 
in the Scripture, which fpeaks of Wheels in Heaven 
that had Life in them, and moved of themfelves, or 
flood ftill, in Conformity with the Cherubims, whom 
they accompanied. 

There is no queftion but Milton had this Circum- 
flance in his Thoughts, becaufe in the following Book 
he defcribes the Chariot of the Meffiah with living 
Wheels, according to the Plan in EzekieVs Vifion. 

Forth rufrtd with whirlwind found 

The Chariot of Paternal Deity, 

Flafhing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn. 

It felf infli7icl with Spirit 

I queftion not but Bojfu, and the two Daciers, who 
are for vindicating every thing that is cenfured in 
Homer, by fomething Parallel in Holy Writ, would 
have been very well pleafed had they thought of con- 
fronting Vulcarts Tripodes with EzekieVs Wheels. 

Raphael's Defcent to the Earth, with the Figure of 
his Perfon, is reprefented in very lively Colours. 
Several of the French, Italian, and EnglitJi Poets have 
given a loofe to their Imaginations in the Defcription 
of Angels : But I do not remember to have met with 
any, fo finely drawn and fo conformable to the Notions 
which are given of them in Scripture, as this in Milton. 
After having fet him forth in all his Heavenly Plumage, 



CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 89 

and reprefented him as alighting upon the Earth, the 
Poet concludes his Defcription with a Circumftance, 
which is altogether new, and imagined with the great- 
er! Strength of Fancy. 

Like Maia'j Son he flood, 

And/hook his plumes, that Heav' nly fragrance filF d 

The Circuit wide 

Raphael's Reception by the Guardian Angels ; his 
palling through the Wildernefs of Sweets ; his diftant 
Appearance to Adam, have- all the Graces that Poetry 
is capable of bellowing. The Author afterwards gives 
us a particular Defcription of Eve in her Domeftick 
Employments. 

So faying, with difp at chful looks in hafle 

She turns, on hofpitable thoughts i7itent, 

What choice to chufefor delicacy befl, 

What order, fo contrived as not to mix- 

Tafles, not welljoyn'd, inelegant, but bring 

Tafle after Tafle, upheld with kihdliefl change; 

Beflirs her then &c.- 

Though in this, and other Parts of the fame Book, 
the Subject is only the Houfewifry of our Firfl 
Parent, it is fet off with fo many pleafing Images 
and ftrong Expreffions, as make it none of the leaft 
agreeable Parts in this Divine Work. 

The natural Majefty of Adam, and at the fame 
time his fubmiffive Behaviour to the Superiour Being, 
who had vouchfafed to be his Gueft ; the folemn Hail 
which the Angel bellows on the Mother of Mankind, 
with the Figure of Eve miniftring at the Table, are 
Circumftances which deferve to be adrmYd. 

Raphael's Behaviour is every way fuitable to the 
dignity of his Nature, and to that Character of a 
sociable Spirit, with which the Author has fo judi- 
ciouily introduced him. He had received Inftruclions 
to converfe with Adam, as one Friend converles with 
another, and to warn him of the Enemy, who was 
contriving his Deftruclion : Accordingly he is repre- 



90 CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 

fented as fitting down at Table with Adam, and 
eating of the Fruits of Paradife. The Occafion natu- 
rally leads him to his Difcourfe on the Food of 
Angels. After having thus entered into Converfation 
with Man upon more indifferent Subjects, he warns 
him of his Obedience, and makes a natural Tranfition 
to the Hiflory of that fallen Angel, who was employed 
in the Circumvention of our Firfl Parents. 

Had I followed Monfieur Boffifs Method in my 
Firfl Paper on Milton, I mould have dated the Action 
of Paradife Lojl from the Beginning of Raphael's 
Speech in this Book, as he fuppofes the Action of the 
Aineid to begin in the fecond Book of that Poem. I 
could alledge many Reafons for my drawing the Ac- 
tion of the s£neid, rather from its immediate Begin- 
ning in the firfl Book, than from its remote Begin- 
ning in the Second, and fhew why I have confidered 
the Sacking of Troy as an Epifode, according to the 
common Acceptation of that Word. But as this 
would be a dry uiventertaining Piece of Criticifm, and • 
perhaps unneceffary to thofe who have read my Firfl 
Paper, I fhall not enlarge upon it. Which-ever of the 
Notions be true, the Unity of Milton's Action is pre- 
ferred according to either of them ; whether we con- 
fider the Fall of Man in its immediate Beginning, as 
proceeding from the Refolutions taken in the Infernal 
Council, or in its more remote Beginning, as proceed- 
ing from the Firfl Revolt of the Angels in Heaven. 
The Occafion which Milto?i affigns for this Revolt, as 
it is founded on Hints in Holy Writ, and on the 
Opinion of fome great Writers, fo it was the mofl pro- 
per that the Poet could have made ufe of. 

The Revolt in Heaven is defcribed with great Force 
of Imagination [Indignation], and a fine Variety of 
Circumflances. The Learned Reader cannot but be 
pleafed with the Poet's Imitation of Homer in the lafl 
of the following Lines. 

At length into the limits of the North 
They came, and Satan took his Royal Seat 



CRITICISM OF BOOK V. 91 

High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
Raised on a Mount, with Pyramids and touPrs 
From Diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of Gold 
The palace of great Lucifer (fo call 
That flruclure in the Dialecl of men 
Interpreted) 

Homer mentions Perfons and Things, which he tells 
us in the Language of the Gods are call'd by different 
Names from thofe they go by in the Language of Men. 
Milton has imitated him with his ufual Judgment in 
this particular place, wherein he has likewife the Autho- 
rity of Scripture to juflify him. The part of Abdiel, 
who was the only Spirit that in this Infinite Hoft of 
Angels preferved his Allegiance to his Maker, exhibits 
to us a noble Moral of religious Singularity. The 
Zeal of the Seraphim breaks forth in a becoming 
Warmth of Sentiments and Exprefiions, as the Cha- 
racter which is given us of him denotes that generous 
Scorn and Intrepidity which attends Heroic Virtue. 
The Author, doubtlefs, defigned it as a Pattern to thofe 
who live among Mankind in their prefent State of De- 
generacy and Corruption. 

So fpake the Seraph Abdiel faithful 'found, 

Among the fait J defs, faithful only he; 

Among innumerable falfe, unmovd, 

Unfliaken, wifeduc'd, tmterriffd; 

His Loyalty he kept, his Love, his Zeal: 

Nor Number, nor example with him wrought 

To fwerve from t?-uth, or change his conflant mind 

Though Single, From amidfl them forth he pafs'd, 

Long way through hoflile Scorn, which he fiflain'd 

Superior, nor of violence fear 'd ought; 

And with retorted Scorn his back he turned 

On thofe proud TowWs to fwift Deflruclion doomd. 




Numb. CCCXXXIII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

vocat in Certamina Divos. Vim. 



&• 



{He calls embattled Deities to Arms.} 



Saturday, March 22, 17 12. 



jjE are now entering upon the Sixth Book 
of Paradife Loft, in which the Poet de- 
fcribes the Battel of Angels; having raifed 
his Reader's Expectation, and prepared 
him for it by feveral Paffages in the pre- 
ceding Books. I omitted quoting thefe Paffages in 
my Obfervations on the former Books, having pur- 
pofely referved them for the opening of this, the Sub- 
ject of which gave occafion to them. The Author's 
Imagination was fo inflamed with this great Scene of 
Action, that wher-ever he fpeaks of it, he rifes, if pot 
fible, above himfelf. Thus where he mentions Satan 
in the beginning of his Poem. 

-Him the Almighty Power 




HurVd headlong flaming from tK Ethereal Side, 
With hideous ruin and combuftion down 
To bottomlefs perdition, there to dwell 

In Adamaiitine Chains and penal fire, \ 
Who durft defie tli Omnipotent to Arms. 

We have likewife feveral noble Hints of it in the In- 
fernal Conference. 

O Prince, O Chief of many throned Powers 
That led th 1 imbatteVd Seraphim to War, 
Too well I jee and rue the dire event, 
That with fad overthrow and foul defeat 
Hath loft us Heaven, and all this mighty hofl 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 93 

In horrible definition laid thus low. 
But fee the angry viclor hath recalFd 
His Minijlers of Vengeance and pur fiat 
Back to the Gates of Heav'n : 2 he Sulphurous hail, 
Shot after us in Storm, overblown hath laid 
The fiery Surge, thatfro?n the precipice 
Of Heai? 71 received its falling, and the thimder 
Winged with red lightning a7id impetuous rage, 
Perhaps hath fpe?it his Shafts, and ceafes now 
To bellow through the vafl and boundlefs deep. 

There are feveral other very Sublime Images on the 
fame Subject in the Firft Book, as alfo in the Second. 

What when we fled amain, purfiid andflrook 
With Heav'ns affliding Thimder, a?id bef ought 
The deep to fhelter us; this Hell then feem' d 
A refuge from thofe wounds 

In fhort, the Poet never mentions any thing of this 
Battel but in fuch Images of Greatnefs and Terrour, as 
are fuitable to the Subject. Among feveral others, I 
cannot forbear quoting that Paffage where the Power, 
who is defcrib'd as prefiding over the Chaos, fpeaks 
in the Third Book. 

Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old 
With faultring fpeech and vifage incompos 1 d, 
Anfwer'd, I know thee, stranger, who thou art, 
That mighty leading Angel, who of late 
Made head againfl Heav'ns King, though overthrow?!. 
I faw and heard, for fuch a numerous hofl 
Fled not in Silence through the frighted deep 
With ruin upon rum, rout on rout, 
Confufion worfe co?ifounded ; and Heav'ns Gates 
Pour'd out by Millions her viclorious bands 
Purfuing 

It required great Pregnancy of Invention, and 
Strength of Imagination, to fill this Battel with fuch 
Circumflances as mould raife and aftonilh the Mind 
of the Reader ; and, at the fame time, an exactnefs 



94 CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 

of Judgment to avoid every thing that might appear 
light or trivial. Thofe, who look into Homer, are fur- 
prifed to find his Battels Hill rifmg one above another, 
and improving in Horrour, to the Conclufion of the 
Iliad. Milton's Fight of Angels is wrought up with 
the fame Beauty. It is ufhered in with fuch Signs 
of Wrath as are fuitable to Omnipotence incenfed. 
The Firft Engagement is carried on under a Cope of 
Fire, occafion'd by the Flights of innumerable burn- 
ing Darts and Arrows, which are difcharged from 
either Hoft. The fecond Onfet is ftill more terrible, 
as it is filled with thofe artificial Thunders, which feem 
to make the Victory doubtful, and produce a kind of 
Conflernation, even in the Good Angels. This is fol- 
lowed by the tearing up of Mountains and Promon- 
tories ; till, in the lafl place, the Mefliah comes forth 
in the fulnefs of Majefly and Terrour. The Pomp of 
his Appearance, amidft the Roarings of his Thunders, 
the Flames of his Lightnings, and the Noife of his 
Chariot Wheels, is defcribed with the utmofl Flights 
of Human Imagination. 

There is nothing in the firft and lafl Days Engage- 
ment, which does not appear natural and agreeable 
enough to the Ideas moil Readers would conceive of 
a Fight between two Armies of Angels. 

' -he Second Day's Engagement is apt to ftartle an 
Imagination, which has not been railed and qualified 
for fuch a Defcription, by the reading of the Ancient 
Poets, and of Homer in particular. It was certainly 
a very bold Thought in our 'Author, to afcribe the 
firft ufe of _ Artillery to the Rebel Angels. But as 
fuch a pernicious Invention may be well fuppofed to 
have proceeded from fuch Authors, fo it entered very 
properly into the Thoughts of that Being, who is all 
along defcribed as afpiring to the Majefty of his 
Maker. Such Engines were the only Inftruments he 
could have made ufe of to imitate thofe Thunders, 
that in all Poetry, both Sacred and Prophane, are repre- 
fented as the Arms of the Almighty. The tearing up 



/ ■ 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 95 

the Hills was not altogether fo daring a Thought as 
the former. We are, in fome meafure, prepared for 
fuch an Incident by the Defcription of the Gyants 
War, which we meet with among the Ancient Poets. 
What flill made this Circumftance the more proper 
for the Poets ufe, is the Opinion of many learned 
Men, that the Fable of the Gyants War, which makes 
fo great a Noife in Antiquity, [and gave Birth to the 
fublimefl Defcription in He/tod's Works,] was an Alle- 
gory founded upon this very Tradition of a Fight 
between the good and bad Angels. 

It may, perhaps, be worth while to confider with 
what Judgment Milton, in this Narration, has avoided 
every thing that is mean and trivial in the Defcriptions 
of the Latin and Greek Poets; and, at the fame time, 
improved every great Hint which he met with in their 
Works upon this Subject. Homer in that Paffage, which 
Longinus has celebrated for its Sublimenefs, and which 
Virgil and Ovid have copied after him, tells us, that 
the Gyants threw Offa upon Olympics, and Pelion upon 
Offa. He adds an Epithet to Pelion (dvoaityvXXov) 
which very much fwells the Idea, by bringing up to 
the Reader's Imagination all the Woods that grew 
upon it. There is further a great Beauty in his ting- 
ling out by Name thefe three remarkable Mountains 
fo well known to the Greeks. This laft is fuch a 
Beauty as the Scene of Milton's War could not poffibly 
furnifh him with. Claudian in his Fragment upon 
the Gyants War, has given full Scope to that wildnefs 
of Imagination which was natural to him. He tells 
us, that the Gyants tore up whole Iflands by the 
Roots, and threw them at the Gods. He defcribes 
one of them in particular taking up Lemnos in his 
Arms, and whirling it to the Skies, with all Vulcan's 
Shop in the midft of it. Another tears up Mount Ida, 
with the River Enipeus which ran down the fides of 
it ; but the Poet, not content to defcribe him with 
this Mountain upon his Shoulders, tells us that the 
River flowed down his Back, as he held it up in that 



96 CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 

Pofture. It is vifible to every judicious Reader, j 
that fuch Ideas favour more of Burlefque than of the I 
Sublime. They proceed from a Wantonnefs of Ima- 
gination, and rather divert the Mind than aftonifh 
it. Milton has taken every thing that is Sublime in 
thefe feveral Paffages, and compofes out of them the . 
following great Image. 

From their Foundations loofning to and fro 
They plucked the feat ed Hills with all their load, 
Rocks, Waters, Woods, and by theJJiaggy tops 
Up-lifting bore them in their Hands : — 

We have the full Majefty of Homer in this fhort 
Defcription, improved by the Imagination of Claudian, 
without its Puerilities. 

I need not point out the Defcription of the fallen 
Angels, feeing the Promontories hanging over their 
Heads in fuch a dreadful manner, with the other 
numberlefs Beauties in this Book, which are fo con- 
fpicuous, that they cannot efcape the Notice of the 
moll ordinary Reader. 

There are indeed fo many wonderful flroaks of 
Poetry in this Book, and fuch a variety of Sublime 
Ideas, that it w^ould have been impoffible to have 
given them a place within the bounds of this Paper. 
Befides that, I find it in a great meafure done to my 
Hand, at the end of my Lord Rof common's Effay on 
Tranflated Poetry. I mail refer my Reader thither 
for fome of the Mafter-Stroaks in the Sixth Book of 
Paradife Loft, tho' at the fame time there are many 
others which that noble Author has not taken notice of. 

Milton, notwithstanding the Sublime Genius he was ' 
Mafler of, has in this Book drawn to his Affiflance all 
the helps he could meet with among the Ancient 
Poets. The Sword of Michael, which makes fo great 
an havock among the bad Angels, was given him, we 
are told, out of the Armory of God. 

But the Sword 

Of Michael from the Armory of God 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 97 

Was giv'n him tempered fo, that neither keen 
Nor f olid might refijl that edge : it met 
The Sword of Satan with Jleep force to f mite 
Defcending, and in half cut fheere, — 

This Paffage is a Copy of that in Virgil, wherein 
the Poet tells us, that the Sword of sEneas, which was 
given him by a Deity, broke into pieces the Sword of 
Turnus, which came from a Mortal Forge : As the 
Moral in this place is Divine, fo by the way we may 
obferve, that the beftowing on a Man who is favour' d 
by Heaven fuch an Allegorical Weapon, is very con- 
formable to the old Eaftern way of Thinking, Not 
only Homer has made ufe of it, but we find the Jewifh 
Hero in the Book of Maccabees, who had fought the 
Battels of the chofen People with fo much Glory and 
Succefs, receiving in his Dream a Sword from the 
hand of the Prophet Jeremy \^JeremiaJi\. The follow- 
ing Paffage, wherein Satan is defcribed as wounded 
by the Sword of Michael, is in imitation of Homer. 

2*he girding Sword with difcontiniious wound 

Pafid through him, but th 1 Ethereal fubflance clofed 

Not long divifible, and from the gafh 

A fir earn of Neclarous humour if) uing flowed 

Sanguin, fuch as celeflial Spirits may bleed, 

And all his Armour flain" d 

Homer tells us in the fame manner, that upon 
Diomedes wounding the Gods, there flow'd from the 
Wound an Ichor, or pure kind of Blood, which was 
not bred from Mortal Viands ; and that tho' the Pain 
was exquifitely great, the Wound foon clofed up and 
healed in thofe Beings who are vefled with Immor- 
tality. , ' 

I queftion not but Milton in his Defcription of his 
furious Moloch flying from the Battel, and bellowing 
with the Wound he had receiv'd,had his Eye upon Mars 
in the Iliad, who upon his being wounded, is repre- 
fented as retiring out of the Fight, and making an 
Outcry louder than that of a whole Army when it 

G 



93 CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 

begins the Charge. Homer adds, that the Greeks and 1 
Trojans, who were engaged in a general Battel, were! 
terrified on each fide with the bellowing of this 
wounded Deity. The Reader will eafily obferve howj 
Milton has kept all the horrour of this Image without 
running into the Ridicule of it. 

• Where the might of Gabriel fought, 



' And with fierce Enfigns pierdd the deep array 
Of "Moloc furious King, who him deffd, 
And at his Chariot wheels to drag him bound 
Threatened, nor from the Holy One of Heart n 
Refrain *d his tongue blafphemous ; but anon 
Down clortn to the wafle, with flatter *d Arms 
And uncouth pain fled bellowing. 

Milton has like wife rais'd his Defcription in this 
Book with many Images taken out of the Poetical 
Parts of Scripture. The Meffiah's Chariot, as I have 
before taken notice, is form'd upon a Vifion of 
Ezekiel, who, as Grotius obferve s, has very much in 
him of Homer's Spirit in the Poetical Parts of his ] 
Prophecy. 

The following Lines in that glorious Commiflion 
which is given the Meffiah to extirpate the Hofl of 
Rebel Angels, is drawn from a Sublime Paffage in the 
Pfalms. 

Go then thou mightiefl in thy Father's might 
Afcend my Chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
That jliake Heart ns bafis, bring forth all my War 
My Bow, my thunder, my almighty arms, 
Gird on thy fword on thy puiffant thigh. 

The Reader will eafily difcover many other Stroaks I 
of the fame nature. 

There is no queflion but Milton had heated his 
Imagination with the Fight of the Gods in Homer, 
before he entered upon this Engagement of the 
Angels. Homer there gives us a Scene of Men, Heroes 
and Gods mixed together in Battel. Mars animates 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 99 

the contending Armies, and lifts up his Voice in fuch 
a manner, that it is heard diftinclly amidft all the 
Shouts and Confufion of the Fight. Jupiter at the 
fame time Thunders over their Heads; while Neptune 
raifes fuch a Tempefl, that the whole Field of Battel, 
and all the tops of the Mountains make about them, 
The Poet tells us, that Pluto himfelf, whofe Habita- 
tion was in the very Center of the Earth, was fo 
a[f]frighted at the mock, that he leapt from his Throne. 
Homer afterwards defcribes Vulcan as pouring down 
a Storm of Fire upon the River Xaitthus, and Minerva 
as throwing a Rock at Mars ; who, he tells us, covered 
feven Acres in his Fall. 

As Homer has introduced into his Battel of the 
Gods every thing that is great a*nd terrible in Nature, 
Milton has filled his Fight of Good and Bad Angels 
with all the like Circumflances of Horrour. The 
Shout of Armies, the Rattling of Brazen Chariots, the 
Hurling of Rocks and Mountains, the Earthquake, 
the Fire, the Thunder, are all of them employed to 
lift up the Reader's Imagination, and give him a fuit- 
able Idea of fo great an Action. With what Art has 
the Poet reprefented the whole Body of the Earth 
trembling, even before it was created. 

All Heaven refunded, and had Earth been then 
All Earth had to its Center Jhook 

In how fublime and juft a manner does he after- 
wards defcribe the whole Heaven making under the 
Wheels of the Meffiah's Chariot, with that Exception to 
the Throne of God ? 

Under his burning Wheels 



Thejleadfa/l Empyrean Jhook throughout, 
All but the Throne it f elf of God ■ 



Notwithstanding the Meffiah appears cloathed with 
fo much Terrour and Majefty, the Poet has Hill 
found means to make his Readers conceive an Idea 
of him, beyond what he himfelf was able to defcribe. 



IOO 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VI. 



Yet half his flrength he put not forth, but cheeJzt 
His thunder in mid volley, for he meant 
Not to deflroy, but root them out of Heaven. 

In a word, Milton's Genius which was fo great in 
it felf, and fo ftrengthened by all the helps of Learn- 
ing, appears in this Book every way Equal to his 
Subje6t[s], which was the mod Sublime that could enter 
into the Thoughts of a Poet. As he knew all the 
Arts of affe cling the Mind, had he not given [he knew 
it was neceflary to give] it certain reding places and 
Opportunities of recovering it felf from time to time : 
He has [therefore] with great Addrefs interfperfed 
feveral Speeches, Reflections, Similitudes, and the 
like Reliefs to diverfifie his Narration, and eafe the 
Attention of his [the] Reader, that he might come frefh 
to his great Action, and by fuch a Contraft of Ideas, 
have a more lively talle of the nobler parts of his 
Defcription. 



Addison corrected and re-corrected this last sentence. The first and last 
readings, as in the original and second editions, are as above. The inter- 
mediate reading, according to the Errata in No. 369, of the original issue, is 
as follows : 

As he knew all the Arts of affecting the Mind, he 
has given it certain retting places and Opportunities 
of recovering it felf from time to time : feveral Speeches, 
Reflections, Similitudes, and the like Reliefs being 
interfperfed, to diversifie his Narration, ar.d eafe the 
attention of his Reader. 




Numb* CCCXXXIX. 

The SPECTATOR. 

Vt his exordia primis 

Omnia, 6° ipfe tener Mundi concreverit orbis. 
Turn durare folum, 6° dif cinder e Nerea ponto 
Cceperit, 6° rerum paullatim fumereformas. Virg. 

{He fung the fee ret Seeds of Nature's Frame ; 
How Seas, and Earth, and Air, and aclive Flame % 
Fell thro' the mighty Void, and ill their Fall 
Were blindly gathered in this goodly Ball. 
The tender Soil then fliff ning by degrees 
Shut from the bounded Earth the boiniding Seas. 
Then Earth and Ocean various Forms difclofe, 
And a nau Sun to the nciu World arofe. Drydcn.} 

Saturday, March 29. 17 12. 



WDNGINUS has obferved, that there may 
! be a Loftinefs in Sentiments, where there 

I is no Paffion, and brings Inftances out of 

I Ancient Authors tofupport this his Opinion. 

" J The Pathetick, as that great Critick ob- 
ferves, may animate and inflame the Sublime, but is 
not effential to it. Accordingly, as he further remarks, 
we very often find that thofe, who excell moft in 
flirring up the Paffions, very often want the Talent of 
Writing in the Great and Sublime manner ; and fo on 
the contrary. Milton has fhewn himfelf a Mailer in 
both thefe ways of Writing. The Seventh Book, 
which we are now entering upon, is an Inftance of 
that Sublime, which is not mixt and work'd up with 
Paffion. The Author appears in a kind of compofed 
and fedate Majefty; and tho' the Sentiments do 
not give fo great [an] Emotion as thofe in the 
former Book, they abound with as magnificent Ideas. 




102 CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. 

The Sixth Book, like a troubled Ocean, reprefents 
Greatnefs in Confufion; the Seventh affects the 
Imagination like the Ocean in a Calm, and fills the 
Mind of the Reader without producing in it any 
thing like Tumult or Agitation. 

The Critiek abovementioned, among the Rules 
which he lays down for fucceeding in the Sublime 
way of Writing, propofes to his Reader, that he mould 
imitate the moil celebrated Authors who have gone 
before him, and have been engaged in Works of the 
fame nature ; as in particular that if he writes on a 
Poetical Subject, he mould confider how Homer would 
have fpoken on fuch an Occafion. By this means 
one great Genius often catches the Flame from 
another, and writes in his Spirit, without copying 
fervilely after him. There are a thoufand Shining 
Paffages in Virgil, which have been lighted up by 
Homer. 

Milton, though his own natural Strength of Genius 
was capable of furnifhing out a perfect Work, has 
doubtlefs very much raifed and ennobled his Concep- 
tions, by fuch an Imitation as that which Longinus has 
recommended. 

In this Book, which gives us an Account of the Six 
Days Works, the Poet received but very few Affifl- 
ances from Heathen Writers, who were Strangers to 
the Wonders of Creation. But as there are many 
Glorious Stroaks of Poetry upon this Subject in Holy 
Writ, the Author has numberlefs Allufions to them 
through the whole Courfe of this Book. The great 
Critiek, I have before mentioned, tho' an Heathen, 
has taken notice of the Sublime manner in which the 
Law-giver of the Jews has defcribed the Creation in 
the firft Chapter of Genefis ; and there are many other 
Paffages in Scripture, which rife up to the fame 
Majefty, where this Subject is toucht upon. Milton 
has fhewn his Judgment very remarkably, in making 
ufe of fuch of thefe as were proper for his Poem, and 
in duly qualifying thofe high Strains of Eaftern Poetry, 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. IO3 

which were fuited to Readers whofe Imaginations were 
fet to an higher pitch than thofe of colder Climates. 

Adam's Speech to the Angel, wherein he defires an 
Account of what had paffed within the Regions of 
Nature before his [the] Creation, is very great and 
folemn. The following Lines, in which he tells him that 
the Day is not too far fpent for him to enter upon fuch 
a Subject, are exquifite in their kind. 

And the Great light of day yet wants to run 
Much of his race through fleep, fifpens in Heart n 
Held by thy voice, thy potent voice he hears 9 
And longer will delay to hear thee tell 

His Generation, &c. 

The Angel's encouraging our firlt Parentis] inamodefl 
purfuit after Knowledge, with the Caufes which heafhgns 
for the Creation of the World, are very juft and beauti- 
ful. The Meffiah, by whom, as we are told in Scrip- 
ture, the Heavens were made, goes [comes*] forth in the 
Power of his Father, furrounded with an Hoft of Angels, 
and cloathed with fuch a Majefty as becomes his entering 
upon a Work, which, according to our Conceptions, 
looks like [appears] the utmoft exertion of Omnipo- 
tence. What a beautiful Defcription has our Author 
raifed upon that Hint in one of the Prophets. And t 
behold there came four Chariots out from between two 
Mountains, and the Mountains were Mountains ofBrafs. 
About his Chariot numberlefs were pour 'd 
Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thro?ies, 
And virtues, winged Spirits, and Chariots wing'd, 
From the Armoury of God, where fland of old 
Myriads betweeii two brazen mountains lodged 
Againfl a folemn day, harnefl at hand; 
Celeflial Equipage) and ?tow came forth 
Spontaneous, for within them fpirit lirtd 
Attendant on their lord : Heatf n open'd wide 
Her ever- during Gates, Harntonious found 

On golden Hinges moving 

I have before taken notice of thefe Chariots of 



I04 CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. 

God ; and cf thefe Gates of Heaven, and fhall here 
only add, that Homer gives us the fame Idea of the 
latter as opening of themfelves, tho' he afterwards 
takes off from it, by telling us, that the Hours firfl of 
all removed thofe prodigious heaps of Clouds which 
lay as a Barrier before them. 

I do not know any thing in the whole Poem more 
Sublime than the Defcription which follows, where the 
Meffiah is reprefented at the head of his Angels, as 
looking down into the Chaos, calming its Confufion, 
riding into the midft of it, and drawing the firfl. Out- 
line of the Creation. 

On Heavenly ground they flood, and from theJJwre 
They vicirtd the vafl immeafurable Abyfs 
Outragious as a Sea, dark, wq/leful } wild, 
Up from the bottom turn 7/ by 'furious winds 
And j urging waves, as Mountains to affault 
Heart lis height, and with the Center mix the Pole. 

Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou Deep, Peace, 
Said then tJi Omnific 7cord, your Difcord end: 

Nor flaid, but on the wings of Cherubim 
Up-lifted, in Paternal Glory rode 
Far into Chaos, and the world unborn; 
For Chaos heard his voice: him all his train 
Followed in bright Procejfwn to behold 
Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
Then flaid the fervid wheels, and An his hand 
He took the golden Compaffes, p?'epared 
In Gods eternal Store, to circumfcribe 
This Univetfe, and all created things : 
One foot he Centered, and the other turned, 
Round through the vafl profundity obfeure, 
And f aid, thus far extend, thus far thy bounds \ 
This be thy jufl Circumfere?ice, O World. 

The Thought of the Golden Compaffes is conceiv'd 
altogether in Hornet* % Spirit, and is a very noble Inci- 
dent in this wonderful Defcription. Homer, wlien he 
fpeaks of the Gods, afcribes to them feveral Arms and 



1 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. TO$ 

Inflruments with the fame greatnefs of Imagination. 
Let the Reader only perufe the Defcription of Minerva's 
^Egis, or Buckler, in the Fifth Book, with her Spear, 
which could [would] overturn whole Squadrons, and her 
Helmet, that was fufficient to cover an Army, drawn 
out of an hundred Cities : The Golden Compaffes, in 
the above-mentioned Paffage appear a very natural 
Inflrument in the Hand of him, whom Plato fome where 
calls the Divine Geometrician. As Poetry delights in 
cloathing abftracted Ideas in Allegories and fenfible 
Images, we ' find a magnificent Defcription of the 
Creation form'd after the fame manner in one of the 
Prophets, wherein he defcribes the Almighty Architect 
as meafuring the Waters in the hollow of his Hand, 
meting out the Heavens with his Span, comprehending 
the Dull of the Earth in a Meafure, weighing the 
Mountains in Scales, and the Hills in a Ballance. 
Another of them defcribing the Supreme Being in 
this great Work of Creation, reprefents him as laying 
the Foundations of the Earth, and flretching a Line 
upon it. And in another place as garnifhing the 
Heavens, flretching out the North over the empty 
place, and hanging the Earth upon nothing. This 
lafl noble Thought Milton has exprefs'd in the fol- 
lowing Verfe : 

And Earth f elf -balanced on her Center hung. 

The Beauties of Defcription in this Book lie fo very 
thick, that it is impoflible to enumerate them in this 
Paper. The Poet has employed on them the whole 
Energy of our Tongue. The feveral great Scenes of 
the Creation rife up to view one after another, in 
fuch a manner that the Reader feems prefent at this 
wonderful Work, and to aflifl among the Quires [Choirs] 
of Angels, who are the Spectators of it. How glorious 
is the Conclufion of the firfl Day. 

Thus was the firfl day Ev'n a?id Morn, 

Nor pajl uncelebrated, nor unfung 

By the Celejlial Quires, when Orient light 



Io6 CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. 

Exhaling firfl front Darknefs they beheld '; 
Birth-day of Heart 11 and Earth ; with joy andjhoul 
The hollow univerfal Orb they f IP d. 

We have the fame elevation of Thought in the third 
Day ; when the Mountains were brought forth, and 
the Deep was made. 

Immediately the mountains huge appear 
Emergent, and their broad bare backs up heave 
Into the Clouds, their tops afcend the Sky. 
So high as heart d the tumid hills, fo low 
Down funk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
Capacious bed of Waters 

We have alfo the rihng of the whole vegetable 
World defcribed in this Day's Work, which is filled 
with all the Graces that other Poets have lavifhed on 
their Defcriptions of the Spring, and leads the 
Reader's Imagination into a Theatre equally fur- 
prizing and beautiful. 

The feveral Glories of the Heav'ns make their 
appearance on. the Fourth Day. 

Firfl in his Eafl the glorious lamp was feen 

Eegent of day, and all thU Horizon round 

Invefled with bright rays,jocond to run 

His longitude through Heart ns high rode : the Gray 

Dawn, and the Pleiades before him danced 

Shedding fweet i?ifluence : lefs bright the moon, 

But oppofite in leveled Wefl was Jet, 

His Mirror, with full face borrowing her light 

Br 077i him* for other light fhe needed 7i07te 

Li that afpecl, andflill that dif^ance keeps 

Till night) then in the Eafl her turn fhe faines 

Revolrtd 011 Heart 71s great Axle, and her 7'eign 

With thoufand leffer lights dividual holds, 

With thoufand thoufand Jlars, that then appeared 

Spangling the Hemifphere 

One would wonder how the Poet could be fo con- 
cife in his Defcription of the Six Days Works, as to 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. 107 

comprehend them within the bounds of an Epifode, 
and at the fame time fo particular, as to give us a 
lively Idea of them. This is ftill more remarkable in 
his Account of the Fifth and Sixth Day[s], in which he 
has drawn out to our view the whole Animal Creation, 
from the Reptil to the Behemoth. As the Lion and 
the Leviathan are two of the nobleft Productions in 
this World , of living Creatures, the Reader will find a 
moil exquifite Spirit of Poetry, in the Account which 
our Author gives us of them. The Sixth Day con- 
cludes with the Formation of Man, upon which the 
Angel takes occafion, as he did after the Battel in 
Heaven,: to remind Adam of his Obedience, which 
was the principal Defign of this his Vifit. 

The Poet afterwards reprefents the Meffiah return- 
ing into Heaven, and taking a Survey of his great 
Work. There is fomething inexprembly Sublime in 
this Part of the Poem, where the Author defcribes 
that great Period of Time, fill'd with fo many Glori- 
ous Circumftances ; when the Heavens and the Earth 
were finifhed; when the Meffiah afcended up in 
Triumph through the Everlafling Gates ; when he 
look'd down with pleafure upon his new Creation \ 
when every Part of Nature feemed to rejoice in its 
Exiftence ; when the Morning Stars fang together, and 
all the Sons of God fhouted for Joy. 

So Ertn and Mom accompli/1? d the Sixth day : 
Yet not till the Creator from his Work 
Defifling, thd unwearied, up returned, 
Up to the Heart 11 of Heart ns his high abode. 
Thence to behold this new created world 
Th! additio7i of his empire; how it /hew d 
In prof peel from his throne, how good, how fair 
A nfwering his great Idea. Up he rode 
Follow" d with acclamation and the Sound 
Symphonious of ten thoufand harps that tutfd 
Angelic Harmonies : the earth, the air 
Refounded, (thou remember' fl, for thou heard'fl} 



108 CRITICISM OF BOOK VII. 

The Heavens and all the Confiellations rung, 
The Planets in their Station UJFning flood. 
While the bright pomp afcended jubilant. 
Open, ye ever lafli?ig gates, they Jung, 
Open, ye Heav'ns, your living doors, let in 
The great Creator from his work returned 
Magnificent, his fix days work, a World. 

I cannot conclude this Book upon the Creation, 
without mentioning a Poem which has lately appeared 
under that Title. The Work was undertaken with fo 
good an Intention, and is executed with fo great a 
Maftery, that it deferves to be looked upon as one 
of the mofl ufeful and noble Productions in our 
Engli/h Verfe. The Reader cannot but be pleafed to 
find the Depths of Philofophy enlivened with all the 
Charms of Poetry, and to fee fo great a Strength of 
Reafon, amidfl fo beautiful a Redundancy of [the] Ima- 
gination. The Author has fhewn us that Defign in 
all the Works of Nature, which neceffarily leads us to 
the Knowledge of its firft Caufe. In fhort, he has 
illuflrated, by numberlefs and inconteftable Inftances, 
that Divine Wifdom, which the Son of Sirach has fo 
nobly afcribed to the Supreme Being in his Forma- 
tion of the World, when he tells us, that He created 
her,,a?td faw her, and numbered her, and poured her out 
upon all his Works. ,f 

t In the advertisements immediately under this paragraph in the Original 
issue is the following; — 

Lately Publish'd, 

Creation. A Philosophical Poem. Demonstrating the Existence and 
Providence of a God. In Seven Books. By Sir Richard Blackmore,Knt., M.D., 
and Fellow of the College of Physicians in London, &c. &c. 





Numb. CCCXLV. 

The SPECTATOR. 

Sanclius his animal, mentifque capacius altce 
Deerat adhuc, et quod dominari in ccetera posset. 
Natus homo efl Ov. Met. 

{A Creature of a more exalted kind 
Was wanting yet, and then was Man defgn'd; 
Confcious of Thought, of more capacious Breafl, 
For Empire form 1 d, and ft to rule the reft. Dryden. j- 

Saturday, April 5, 17 12. 

,HE Accounts which Raphael gives of the 
Battel of Angels, and the Creation of the 
World, have in them thofe Qualifications 
which the Criticks judge requifite to an 
Epifode. They are nearly related to the 
principal Action, and have a jufl Connection with the 
Fable. 

The Eighth Book opens with a beautiful Defcription 
of the Impreffion which this Difcourfe of the Arch- 
angel made on our firfl Parent. Adam afterwards, by 
a very natural Curiofity, enquires concerning the 
Motions of thofe Celeflial Bodies which make the 
moft glorious Appearance among the fix Days Works. 
The Poet here, with a great deal of Art, reprefents 
Eve as withdrawing from this part of their Converfation 
to Amufements that feem more fuitable to her Sex. 
He well knew, that the Epifode in this Book, which is 
filled with Adam's Account of his Paffion and Efleem 
for Eve, would have been improper for her hearings 
and has therefore devifed very "jufl and beautiful 
Reafons for her Retiring. 

Sofpake our Sire, and by his Countenance feem ] d 
Entring onfludious thoughts abflrufe: which Eve 
Perceiving where fJ^e fat retired in fight, 
With lowlinefs Majeflick from her Seat 



110 CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. 

And Grace that won who faw to wijh her flay, 
Iiofe, and went forth among her fruits and flozvers 
To vifit how they prof per' d, hud and bloom, 
Her Nurfery ; they at her coming fprung, 
* And toucht by her fair tendance gladlier grew. 
Yet went flte not, as not with fuch difcourfe 
Delighted, or not capable her ear 
Of what was high : Such pleafure flhe referv d 
Adam relating, flie fole Auditrefs ; 
Her Husband the relater flhe pref err 1 d 
Before the Angel, a7id of him to ask 
Chofe rather : he, flte knew, would intermix 
Grateful digreffions, and folve high difpute 
With conjugal Carejfes : from his Lip 
Not words alone p leafed her. O when meet now 
Such pairs in Love, and mutual honour joirid ? 

The Angel's returning a doubtful Anfwer to Adam\ 
Enquiries, was not only proper for the Moral Reafon 
which the Poet affigns, but becaufe it would have 
been highly abfurd to have given the Sanction of an 
Archangel to any particular Syftem of Philofophy. 
The chief Points in the Ptolemaic and Copemican 
Hypothefis are defcribed with great Concifenefs and 
Perfpicuity, and at the fame time dreffed in verypleaf- 
ing and Poetical Images. 

Adam, to detain the Angel, enters afterwards upon 
his own Hiftory, and relates to him the Circumflances 
in which he found himfelf upon his Creation ; as alfo 
his Converfation with his Maker, and his firft Meeting 
with Eve. There is no part of the Poem more apt to 
raife the attention of the Reader, than this Difcourfe 
of our great Anceftor ; as nothing can be more fur- 
prizing and delightful to us, than to hear the Senti- 
ments that arofe in the firfl Man while he was yet new 
and frefh from the hands of his Creator. The Poet 
has interwoven every thing which is delivered upon 
this Subject in Holy Writ with fo many beautiful 
Imaginations of his own, that nothing can be conceived 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. Ill 

more juit and natural than this whole Epifode. As 
our Author knew this Subjecl could not but be agree- 
able to his Reader, he would not throw it into the 
relation of the fix Days Works, but referved it for a 
diflincl; Epifode, that he might have an opportunity 
of expatiating upon it more at large. Before I enter 
on this part of the Poem, I cannot but take notice of 
two fhining Paffages in the Dialogue between Adam 
and the Angel. The firft is that wherein our Anceftor 
gives an Account of the Pleafure he took in converfmg 
with' him, which contains a very noble Moral. 
For while I fit with thee, Ifeem in Heaven, 
And fweeter thy difcourfe is to my ear 
Than fruits of Palm-tree pleaf ant eft to thirfl 
And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 
Of fweet repafl; they f dilate, and foon fill, 
The? pleaf ant, but thy words with Grace divine 
Imbild, bring to their fweetnefs no fatiety. 
The other I fhall mention is that in which the 
Angel gives a reafon why he fhould be glad to hear 
the Story Adam was about to relate. 
For I that day was abfent, as befell, 
Bound on a Voyage uncouth and obfeure, 
Far on' excurfion towards the Gates of Hell; 
Squared in full Legion {fuch command we had) 
To fee that none thence iff tied forth a Spy, 
Or enemy, while God was in his work, 
Left he incenfi at fuch eruption bold, 
Jpeflruclion with Creation might have mix'd. 
There is no queftion but our Poet drew the Image 
in what follows from that in Virgil's Sixth Book, where 
Aineas and the Sibyl fland before the Adamantine 
Gates which are there defcrib'd as fhut upon the place 
of Torments, and liflen to the Groans, the clank of 
Chains, and the noife of Iron Whips that were heard 
in thofe Regions of Pain and Sorrow. 

Fafil we found, fafl fhut 

The difmal gates, and barricadoedjirong ; 



112 CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. 

But long ier our approaching heard within 
Noife, other than the found of Dance or Song, 
Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 
Adam then proceeds to give an Account of his 
Condition and Sentiments immediately after his Crea- 
tion. How agreeably does he represent the pofture 
in which he found himfelf, the beautiful Landfkip that 
furrounded him, and the gladnefs of Heart which grew 
up in him on that occalion. 

As new waked from foundefi fleep 

Soft on theflowry herb I found me laid 
In balmy fweat, which with his beams the Sun 
Soon dried, and on the reeking moiflurefed. 
Streight toward Heart 11 my wondering eyes I turnd. 
And gaz'd a while the ample Sky, 'till rais'd 
By quick inflinclive motion up I fprung 
As thitherward endeavouring^ and upright 
Stood on my feet ; about me round I faw 
Hill, Dale, andfJiady woods and funny plains, 
And liquid lapfe of 'murmuring fir earns \ by thefe 
Creatures that lirtd, and mortd, and walked, or flew, 
Birds on the branches warbling ; all things fmiC d : 
With fragrance, and with Joy my heart overflowed. 

Adam is afterwards defcribed as furpriz'd at his own 
Exiflence, and taking a Survey of himfelf, and of all 
the Works of Nature. He likewife is reprefented as 
difcovering by the Light of Reafon, that he and every 
thing about him mufl have been the effect of fome 
Being infinitely good and powerful, and that this Being 
had a Right to his Worfhip and Adoration. His firfl 
addrefs to the Sun, and to thofe parts of the Creation 
which made the mofl diftinguifhed Figure, is very 
natural and amufmg to the Imagination. 

Thou Sun, f aid I, fair Light, 

And thou enlighf ned earth, fo frefh and gay, 

Ye Hills and Dales, ye Rivers, Woods and Plains, 
And ye that live and move, fair creatures tell, 

Tell if you faw, how came I thus, how here? 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. I13 

His next Sentiment, when upon his firft going to Sleep 
he fancies himfelf lofmg his Exiflence, and falling 
away into nothing, can never be fufficiently admired. 
His Dream, in which he flill preferves the Confciouf- 
nefs of his Exiflence, together with his removal into 
the Garden which was prepared for his Reception, are 
alfo Circumftances finely imagined, and grounded upon 
what is delivered in Sacred Story. 

Thefe and the like wonderful Incidents, in this Part 
of the Work, have in them all the Beauties of Novelty, 
at the fame time that they have all the Graces of Na- 
ture. They are fuch as none but a great Genius could 
have thought of, though, upon the perufal of them, 
they feem to rife of themfelves from the Subject of 
which he treats. In a Word, though they are natural 
they are not obvious, which is the true Character of 
all fine Writing. 

The Impreffion which the Interdiction of the Tree 
of Life left in the Mind of our firft Parent, is defcribed 
with great Strength and Judgment, as the Image of 
the feveral Beafls and Birds paffing in review before 
him is very beautiful and lively. 

1 Each Bird and Beajl behold 

Approaching two and two, thefe cowring low 

With blandiJJiment ; each bird Jloofl d oil his Wing: 

I natiid them as they pafs'd 

Adam, in the next place, defcribes a Conference 
which he held with his Maker upon the Subject of Soli- 
tude. The Poet here reprefents the Supreme Being, 
as making an Effay of his own Work, and putting to 
the tryal that reafoning Faculty, with which he had 
endued his Creature. Adam urges, in this divine Col- 
loquy, the Impofnbility of his being happy, tho' he 
was the Inhabitant of Paradife, and Lord of the whole 
Creation, without the Conversation and Society of fome 
rational Creature, who mould partake thofe Bleffmgs 
with him. This Dialogue, which is fupported chiefly 
by the Beauty of the Thoughts, without other Poetical 

H 



1 14 CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. 

Ornaments, is as fine a part as any in the whole 
Poem : The more the Reader examines the juftnefs 
and delicacy of its Sentiments, the more he will find 
himfelf pleafed with it. The Poet has wonderfully 
preferred the Character of Majefly and Condefcention 
in the Creator, and at the fame time that of Humility 
and Adoration in the Creature, as particularly in thofe 
beautiful Lines. 

Thus I prefumptuous ; and the Vifion bright, 
As with a finite more brightned, thus reply* d. &c. 

■ I With leave of fpeech implored 

And humble deprecation thus reply* d, 
Let not my Words offend thee, Heavenly power, 
My maker, be propitious while I f peak &c. 
Adam then proceeds to give an account of his 
fecond Sleep, and of the Dream in which he beheld the 
Formation oiEve. The new Paffion that was awakened 
in him at the fight of her is touched very finely. 
Under his forming hands a Creature grew, 
Manlike, but different Sex \ fa lovely fair, 
That what feem\i fair in all the World feeni'd now 
Mean, or in her fumnid up, in her contain ] d, 
And in her looks j Which from that time infus'd 
Sweetnefs into my heart, unfelt before, 
And into all things from her air infpifd 
Thefpirit of Love and amorous delight. 
Adanis Diflrefs upon lofing fight of this beautiful 
Phantom, with his Exclamations of Joy and Gratitude 
at the Difcovery of a real Creature, who refembled 
the Apparition which had been presented to him in 
his Dream ; the Approaches he makes to her, and his 
manner of Courtfhip, are all laid together in a moil 
exquifite Propriety of Sentiments. 

Tho' this part of the Poem is work'd up with great 
Warmth and Spirit, the Love, which is defcribed in it, 
is every way fuitable to a State of Innocence. If the 
Reader compares the Defcription which Adam here 
gives of his leading Eve to the Nuptial Bower, with 



CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. II5 

that which Mr. Dryden has made on the fame Occa- 
sion in a Scene of his Fall of Man, he will be fenfible 
of the great Care which Milton took to avoid all 
Thoughts on fo delicate a Subject, that might be 
ofTenfive to Religion or Good-manners. The Senti- 
ments are chafle, but not cold, and convey to the 
Mind Ideas of the moil tranfporting Paffion, and of 
the greatefl Purity. What a noble Mixture of Rapture 
and Innocence has the Author joined together, in the 
Reflection which Adam makes on the Pleafures of 
Love, compared to thofe of Senfe. 

Thus have I told thee all my State, and brought 

My Story to the Sum of earthly blifs 

Which I enjoy, and mufl confefs to find 

In all things elfe delight indeed, but fuch 

As us'd or not, works in the mind no change, 

Nor vehement defire ; thefe delicacies 

I mean of tafie, fight, fmell, herbs, fruits and flowers. 

Walks, and the melody of Birds ; but here 

Far otherwife, tranfported I behold, 

Tranf ported touch ; here paffion firfl I felt, 

Commotion fir ange, in all enjoyments elfe 

Superiour and unmov'd, here only weak 

Againfi the Charm of beauties pow erf u 11 glance. 

Or nature faiV d in me, and left fome part 

Not proof enough fuch object to fufiaiii, 

Or from my fide fub dueling , took perhaps 

More than enough ; at leafi on her befiow'd 

Too much of or?iament, in outward fiiew 

Elaborate, of inward lefs exact. 

When I approach 

Her lovelinefs, fo abfolute ffJiefeems 
And in herfelf compleat,fo well to know 
Her own, that what ffJie wills to do or fay ^ 
See?7is wifefi, virtuoitfefi, difcreetefi, befl : 
All higher knowledge in her prefence falls 
Degraded: Wifdom in difcourfe with her 
Lofes dif countenanced, and like folly fluws \ 



Il6 CRITICISM OF BOOK VIII. 

Authority and reafon on her wait, 
As one intended ' firfl, not after made 
Occaftonally ; and to confummate all, 
Greatnefs of mind and noblenefs their Scat 
Build in her lovclicjl, and ereate an awe 
About her, as a guard A?igeliek pladd. 

Thefe Sentiments of Love, in our firft Parent, gave 
the Angel fuch an Infight into Humane Nature, that he 
feemsapprehenfive of the Evils which might befall the 
Species in general, as well as Adam in particular, from 
the Excefs of this Paflion. He therefore fortifies him 
againll it by timely Admonitions \ which very artfully 
prepare the Mind of the Reader for the Occurrences 
of the next Book, where the Weaknefs of which Adam 
here gives fuch diftant difcoveries, brings about that 
fatal Event which is the Subject of the Poem. His 
Difcourfe, which follows the gentle Rebuke he re- 
ceiv'd from the Angel, fhews that his Love, however 
violent it might appear, was flill founded in Reafon, 
and confequently not improper for Paradife. 

Neither her outfide form fo fair, nor ought 
In procreation common to all kinds 
{Though higher of the genial bed by far, 
And with myflerious reverence I deem) 
So much delights me as thofe graceful acls, 
Thofe thou find decencies that daily flow 
From all her words and actions mixt with love 
And f wee t compliance, which declare unfeigned 
Union of mind, or in us both one Soul', 
Harmony to behold in wedded pair. 

Adam's Speech, at parting with the Angel, has in it 
a Deference and Gratitude agreeable to an Inferioi 
Nature, and at the fame time a certain Dignity and 
Greatnefs, fuitable to the Father of Mankind in his 
State of Innocence. 



Numb. CCCLI. 

The SPECTATOR. 

— In te omnis dotnus indinata recumbit. Virg. 




{On thee the Fortunes of our Houfe depend.') 



Saturday ', April 12. 17 12, 



|F we look into the three great Heroic 
Poems which have appear'd in the World, 
we may obferve that they are built upon 
very flight Foundations. Homer lived 
near 300 Years after the Trojan War, and, 
as the Writing of Hiftory was not then in ufe among 
the Greeks, we may very well fuppofe, that the Tradi- 
tion of Achilles and Ulyffes had brought down but 
very few Particulars to his Knowledge, tho' there is 
no queftion but he has wrought into his two Poems 
fuch of their remarkable Adventures as were ftill 
talked of among his Contemporaries. 

The Story of ALneas, on which Virgil founded his 
Poem, was likewife very bare of Circumftances, and 
by that means afforded him an Opportunity of em- 
bellifhing it with Fiction, and giving a full Range to 
his own Invention. We find, however, that he has 
interwoven, in the courfe of his Fable, the principal 
Particulars, which were generally believed among the 
Romans, of Apneas his Voyage and Settlement in 
Italy. 

The Reader may find an Abridgment of the whole 
Story, as collected out of the Ancient Hiflorians, 
and as it was received among the Romans, in Diony- 
fius Halicarnaffeus. 

Since none of the Criticks have confidered VirgiFs 
Fable, with relation to this Hiftory of ALneas, it may 



Il8 CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 

not, perhaps, be amifs to examine it in this Light, U> 
far as regards my prefent Purpofe. Whoever looks 
into the Abridgment abovementioned, will find that 
the Character of sEneas is filled with Piety to the 
Gods, and a fuperflitious Obfervation of Prodigies, 
Oracles, and Predictions. Virgil has not only pre- 
ferred this Character in the Perfon of Apneas, but has 
given a place in his Poem to thofe particular Prophe- 
cies which he found recorded of him in Hiftory and 
Tradition. The Poet took the matters of Fact as 
they came down to him, and circumftanced them after 
his own manner, to make them appear the more 
natural, agreeable or furprifing. I believe very many 
Readers have been fhocked at that ludicrous Pro- 
phecy, which one of the Harpyes pronounces to the 
Trojans in the Third Book, namely, that before they 
had built their Intended City, they fhould be reduced 
by Hunger to eat their very Tables. But, when they 
heard that this was one of the Circumftances that had 
been tranfmitted to the Romans in the Hiftory of 
ALneas, they will think the Poet did very well in 
taking notice of it. The Hiflorian abovementioned, 
acquaints us that a Prophetefs had foretold Aineas, that 
he fhould take his Voyage Weftward, till his Com- 
panions fhould eat their Tables, and that accordingly, 
upon his landing in Italy, as they were eating their Flefh 
upon Cakes of Bread, for want of other Conveniences, 
they afterwards fed on the Cakes themfelves, upon 
which one of the Company faid merrily, ' We are eating 
our Tables.' They immediately took the Hint, fays 
the Hiflorian, and concluded the Prophecy to be ful- 
filled. As Virgil did not think it proper to omit fo 
material a Particular in the Hiftory of JEneas, it may 
be worth while to confider with how much Judgment 
he has qualified it, and taken off every thing that 
might have appeared improper for a Paffage in an 
Heroic Poem. The Prophetefs who foretells it is an 
lungry Harpy, as the Perfon who difcovers it is young 
Afcanius. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 119 

Hens etiam men/as confumimus inqnit Ialius ! 

Such an Obfervation, which is beautiful in the 
mouth of a Boy, would have been ridiculous from any 
other of the Company. I am apt to think that the 
changing of the Trojan Fleet into Water-Nymphs, 
which is the molt violent Machine of the whole Eneid, 
and has given Offence to feveral Critics, may be ac- 
counted for the fame way. Virgil himfelf, before he 
begins that Relation, premifes that what he was going 
to tell appeared incredible, but that it was juflified by 
Tradition. What further confirms me that this change 
of the Fleet was a celebrated Circumflance in the 
Hiflory of Apneas, is, that Ovid has given a place to 
the fame Metamorphofis in his account of the Heathen 
Mythology. 

None of the Cri ticks, I have met with, having con- 
fidered the Fable of the Alneid in this Light, and taken 
notice how the Tradition, on which it was founded, 
authorizes thofe Parts in it which appear the moil 
Exceptionable ; I hope the Length of this Reflection 
will not make it unacceptable to the curious Part of 
my Readers. 

The Hiflory, which was the Bans of Milton's Poem, 
is ftill fhorter than either that of the Iliad or sEneid. 
The Poet has likewife taken care to infert every Cir- 
cumflance of it in the Body of his Fable. The Ninth 
Book, which we are here to confider, is raifed upon 
that brief Account in Scripture, wherein we are told 
that the Serpent was more fubtile than any Beafl of 
the Field, that he tempted the Woman to eat of the 
Forbidden Fruit, that fhe was overcome by this 
Temptation, and that Adam followed her Example. 
From thefe few Particulars Milton has formed one of 
the moft Entertaining Fables that Invention ever 
produced. He has difpofed of thefe feveral Circum- 
flances among fo many beautiful and natural Fictions 
of his own, that his whole Story looks only like a Com- 
ment upon facred Writ, or rather feems to be a full 



120 CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 

and compleat Relation of what the other is only an 
Epitome. I have infilled the longer on this Con- 
fideration, as I look upon the Difpofition and Contri- 
vance of the Fable to be the Principal Beauty of the 
Ninth Book, which has more Story in it, and is fuller 
of Incidents, than any other in the whole Poem. 
SatatJs traverfing the Globe, and flill keeping within 
the Shadow of the Night, as fearing to be difcovered 
by the Angel of the Sun, who had before detecled him, 
is one of thofe beautiful Imaginations [with] which 
[he] introduces this his fecond Series of Adventures. 
Having examined the Nature of every Creature, and 
found out one which was the moft proper for his Pur- 
pofe, he again returns to Paradife ; and,, to avoid 
Difcovery, finks by Night with a River that ran under 
the Garden, and rifes up again through a Fountain 
that iffued from it by the Tree of Life. The Poet, 
who, as we have before taken notice, fpeaks as little 
as poflible in his own Perfon, and, after the example 
of Homer, fills every Part of his Work with Manners 
and Characters, introduces a Soliloquy of this In- 
fernal Agent, who was thus refllefs in the Definition 
of Man. He is then defcrib'd as gliding through 
the Garden under the refemblance of a Mifl, in 
order to find out that Creature in which he defign'd 
to tempt our firfl Parents. This Defcription has 
fomething in it very Poetical and Surprizing. 

So faying, through each thicket Dank or Dry 
Like a black Mifl, low creeping, he held on 
His Midnight Search, where foonefl he might find 
The Serpent: him fafl fleeping foon he found 
In Labyrinth of many a round f elf roll 1 d, \ 

His head the midfl, well florid withfubtle wiles. 

The Author afterwards gives us a Defcription of 
the Morning, which is wonderfully fuitable to a Divine 
Poem, and peculiar to that firfl Seafon of Nature ; 
he reprefents the Earth before it was curfl, as a great 
Altar breathing out its Incenfe from all parts, and 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 121 

fending up a pleafant Savour to the Noftrils of its 
Creator; to which he adds a noble Idea of Adam 
and Eve, as offering their Morning Worfhip, and 
filling up the univerfal Confort of Praife and Adoration, 

Now when as f acred light bega?i to dawn 
In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
Their morning incenfe, when all things that breath 
From ttt Earth's great Altar fend up f dent praife 
To the Cr eat our, and his noftrils fill 
With grateful fmell, forth came the human pair 
Andjoyrtd their vocal worfliip to the Choir 
Of Creatures wanting voice ■ 

The Difpute which follows between our two firfl 
Parents is reprefented with great Art : It arifes [pro- 
ceeds] from a difference of Judgment, not of Pamon, 
and is managed with Reafon, not with Heat; it is fuch 
a Difpute as we may fuppofe might have happened in 
Paradife, had Man continued Happy and Innocent. 
There is a great Delicacy in the Moralities which are 
interfperfed in Adam's Difcourfe, and which the moll 
ordinary Reader cannot but take notice of. That 
force of Love which the Father of Mankind fo finely 
defcribes in the Eighth Book, and which I inferted in 
my laft Saturday's Paper, fhews it felf here in many 
beautiful Inftances : As in thofe fond Regards he cafts 
towards Eve at her parting from him. 

Her long with arde?it look his eye purfued 
Delighted but defiring more her flay. 
Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
Repeated, fhe to him as oft engaged 
To be returrtd by noon amid the Bowre. 

In his impatience and amufement during hex 
Abfence. " 

Adam the while 

Waitiitg defirous her retur?i, had wove 
Of choic eft flowers a Garland to adorn 
Her Treffes, and her rural labours crown> 



122 CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 

As Reapers oft are wont their Harvejl Queen. 
Great Joy he pro?nifed to his thoughts, and neiv 
Solace in her return, fo long delayed; 

But particularly in that paffionate Speech, where 
feeing her irrecoverably loft, he refolves to perifh with 
her, rather than to live without her. 

-Some cwfed fraud 



Or enemy hath beguiVd thee, yet unknown, 
And me with thee hath ruirid\ for with thee 
Certain my rcfolution is to die ; 
How can 1 live without thee, how forego 
Thy fweet convcrfe and love fo dearly joirfd, 
To live again in thefe wild woods forlorn ? 
Should God create another Eve, and I 
Another rib afford, yet lofs of thee 
Would never from my heart ; no, no, I feel 
The link of nature draw me : Flefli of Flefli, 
Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy State 
Mi?ie 7ieverfliall be parted Blifs or Woe, 

The beginning of this Speech, and the Preparation 
to it, are animated with the fame Spirit as the Con- 
clulion, which I have here quoted. 

The feveral Wiles which are put in Practice by the 
Tempter, when he found Eve feparated from her 
Husband, the many pleafmg Images of Nature, which 
are intermixt in this part of the Story, with its gradual 
and regular Progrefs to the fatal Cataftrophe, are fo 
very remarkable, that it would be fuperfluous to point 
out their feveral [refpective] Beauties. 

I have avoided mentioning any particular Simili- 
tudes in my Remarks on this great Work, becaufe I 
have given a general account of them in my Paper on 
the Firfl Book. There is one, however, in this part 
of the Poem w r hich I fhall here quote, as it is not only 
very beautiful, but the clofeft of any in the whole 
Poem ; I mean that where the Serpent is defcrib'd as 
rolling forward in all his Pride, animated by the evil 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 123 

Spirit, and conducing Eve to her Deftrudlion, while 
Adam was at too great a diflance from her, to give her 
his Affiflance. Thefe feveral Particulars are all of 
them wrought into the following Similitude. 

Hope elevates, and Joy 

Brighten } s his Crefl, as when a wand' ring fire 
Compacl of uncluous vapour \ which the night 
Condenfes, and the cold invirons round, 
Kindled through agitatio?i to aflame, 
( Which oft, they fay, fome evilfpirit attends) 
Hovering aiid blazing with delufive light, 
Mifleads tti amaz'd Night-wanderer from his way 
To boggs and mires, and oft through pond or pool, 
There fw allow" d up and lofl, fro?n fuccour far : 

That fecret Intoxication of Pleafure, with all thofe 
tranfient flulhings of Guilt and Joy which the Poet 
reprefents in ourfirft Parents upon their eating the for- 
bidden Fruit, to thofe flaggings of Spirit, damps of 
Sorrow and mutual Accufations which fucceed it, are 
conceiv'd with a wonderful Imagination, and defcribed 
in very natural Sentiments. 

When Dido in the Fourth ^Eneid yielded to that 
fatal Temptation which ruin'd her, Virgil tells us, the 
Earth trembled, the Heavens were filled with flames 
of Lightning, and the Nymphs howl'd upon the Moun- 
tain Tops. Milton, in the fame Poetical Spirit, has 
defcrib'd all Nature as difturbed upon Eve's eating 
the forbidden Fruit. 

So faying, her rafli hand i?i evil hour 
Forth reachiiig to the Fruit, JJie plucked, filie eat: 
Earth felt the wound, and nature from her Seat 
Sighing through all her works gavefigns of Woe 
That all was lofl 

Upon Adam's falling into the fame Guilt, the whole 
Creation appears a fecond time in Convulfions. 

He fcrupVd not to eat 

Againfl his better knowledge ; not deceived. 



124 CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 

But fondly overco?ne with Female charm. 
Earth trembled from her Entrails, as again 
In pangs, ~and nature gave a fecond groan, 
Sky low red and muttering thunder, fome fad drops 
Wept at compleating of the mortal Sin 

As all Nature fuffer'd by the guilt of our firft Pa- 
rents, thefe Symptoms of Trouble and Confternation are 
wonderfully imagin'd, not only as Prodigies, but as 
Marks of her Sympathizing in the Fall of Man. 

Adam's Converfe with Eve, after having eaten the 
forbidden Fruit, is an exact Copy of that between 
Jupiter and Juno, in the Fourteenth Iliad. Juno there 
approaches Jupiter with the Girdle which fhe had re- 
ceived from Venus, upon which he tells her, that fhe 
appeared more charming and deferable than fhe ever 
had done before, even when their Loves were at the 
highefl. The Poet afterwards defcribes them as repof- 
ing on a Summet of Mount Ida, which produced under 
them a Bed of Flowers, the Lotus, the Crocus, and the 
Hyacinth, and concludes his Defcription with their 
falling a-fleep. \ 

Let the Reader compare this with the following 
Paffage in Milton, which begins with Adam's Speech 
to Eve, 

For never did thy Beauty fince the Day 
I faw thee firfl and wedded thee, adortfd 
With all Perfeclio?ts fo inflame my Senfe 
With ardor to e?ijoy thee, fairer now 
Than ever, bounty of this vi?'tuous Tree. 

So f aid he, and forbore not glance or toy 
Of amorous intent, well underflood 
Of Eve, whofe Eye darted contagious fire. 
Her hand he feifed, and to a fhady bank 
Thick over-head with verdant roof embowr'd 
He led her nothing loth : Flowers were the Couch, 
Fanfies, and Violets, and Afphodel, 
And Hyacinth, Eartti s frefihefil foftefil lap. 
There they their fill of Love, and Loves difport 



CRITICISM OF BOOK IX. 



*25 



Took largely, of their mutual guilt the Seal, 
The Solace of their Sin, Hill dewy fleep 
Opprefi d them 

As no Poet feems ever to have ftudied Homer more, 
or to have refembled him in the greatnefs of Genius 
than Milton, I think I fhou'd have given but a very 
imperfect Account of his Beauties, if I had not ob- 
served the mod remarkable Paffages which look like 
Parallels in thefe two great Authors. I might, in the 
Courfe of thefe Criticifms, have taken notice of many- 
particular Lines and Expreffions which are tranflated 
from the Greek Poet, but as I thought this would have 
appeared too minute and over-curious, I have pur- 
pofely omitted them. The greater Incidents, how- 
ever, are not only fet off by being mown in the fame 
Light, with feveral of' the fame Nature in Homer, but 
by that means may be alfo guarded againft the Cavils 
of the Taftelefs or Ignorant. , 





Numb. CCCLVII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

■\ Redder e perf once frit convenientia cuique. Hor. 

{He knows what bejl befits each characler. } 

£ q U is talia fa?ido 

Temperet a lachrymis ? Virg.] 

{ Who ca?i relate f itch Woes without a Tear ?} 

Saturday, April 19. 17 12. 

[HE Tenth Book of Paradife Loft has a 
greater variety of Perfons in it than any 
other in the whole Poem. The Author 
upon the winding up of his Action intro- 
duces all thofe who had any Concern in 
it, and fhew's with great Beauty the influence which it 
had upon each of them. It is like the laft Act of a 
well written Tragedy, in which all who had a part in 
it are generally drawn up before the Audience, and re- 
prefented under thofe Circumftances in which the de- 
termination of the Action places them. 

I fhall therefore confider this Book under four 
Heads, in relation to the Celeftial, the Infernal, the 
Human, and the Imaginary Perfons, who have their 
refpective Parts allotted in it. 

To begin with the Celeftial Perfons : The Guardian 
Angels of Paradife are defcribed as returning to Heaven 
upon the Fall of Man, in order to approve their Vigilance; 
their Arrival, their manner of Reception, with the Sor- 
row which appeared in themfelves, and in thofe Spirits 
who are faid to Rejoice at the Converfion of a Sinner, 
are very finely laid together in the following Lines. 

Up ijito Heav'nfrom Paradife in hafle 
TJH angelick guards afcended, mute and fad 
For man, for of his flat e by this they knew 
Much wondering how thefubtle Fiend had floln 

t This motto was changed in second edition for the one telow it. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 127 

Entrance unfeen. Soon as tti unwelcome news 
From earth arrived at Heaven Gate, dif pleas' d 
All were who heard, dim fadnefs did not fpare 
That time Celejlial vifages, yet mixt 
With pity, violated not their blifs. 
About the new-arriv* d, in multitudes 
Tft! sEthereal people ran, to hear and know 
How all befell ; They towards the thro?ie fupreame 
Accountable made hajle to make appear 
With righteous plea, their utmojl vigilance, 
And eafily approved ; when the mojl High 
Eternal father from his fecret cloud, 
Amidfl in thunder utter' d thus his voice. 

The fame Divine Perfon who in the foregoing parts 
of this Poem interceded for our firft Parents before 
their Fall, overthrew the rebel Angels, and created the 
World, is now reprefented as defcending to Paradife, 
and pronouncing Sentence upon the three Offenders. 
The cool of the Evening, being a Circumftance with 
which Holy Writ introduces this great Scene, it is 
Poetically defcribed by our Author, who has alfo kept 
religioufly to the form of Words, in which the three 
feveral Sentences were paffed upon Adam, Eve, and 
the Serpent. He has rather chofen to neglecl the 
numeroufnefs of his Verfe, than to deviate from thofe 
Speeches which are recorded on this great occafion. 
The Guilt and Confufion of our firft Parents {landing 
naked before their Judge, is touch'd with great Beauty. 
Upon the Arrival of Sin and Death into the Works of 
the Creation, the Almighty is again introduced as 
.peaking to his Angels that unrounded him. 

See with what heat thefe Dogs of Hell advance 
To wafle and havock yonder world, which I 
So fair and good weated, &c. 

The following Paffage is formed upon that glorious 
Image in Holy Writ which compares the Voice, of an 
innumerable Hoft of Angels, uttering Hallelujahs, to 
the Voice of mighty Thunderings, or of many Waters. 



128 CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 

He ended, and the Heavenly Audience loud 
Swig Hallelujah^ as the found of Seas ', 
Through multitude that fung: Jufl are thy ways, 
Righteous are thy Decrees in all thy Works, 
Who can extenuate thee % 

Though the Author in the whole courfe of his 
Poem, and particularly in the Book we are now 
examining, has infinite Allufions to places of Scripture, 
I have only taken notice in my Remarks of fuch as 
are of a Poetical Nature, and which are woven with 
great Beauty into the Body of his [this] Fable. Of 
this kind is that Paffage in the prefent Book, where 
defcribing Sin [and Death] as marching through the 
Works of Nature, he adds, 

Behind her Death 



Clofe following pace for pace, not mounted yet 
On his pale horfe : 

Which alludes to that Paffage in Scripture fo wonder- 
fully Poetical, and terrifying to the Imagination. And 
I looked, and behold, a pale Horfe, and his Name that fat 
on him was Death, and Hell followed with hi7n : and 
power was given unto them over the fourth part of the 
earth, to kill with fword, and with hunger, and with 
ficknefs, and with the beafls of the earth. Under this 
firft head of Celeftial Perfons we muft likewife take 
notice of the Command which the Angels received, 
to produce [the] feveral Changes in Nature, and fully 
the Beauty of the Creation. Accordingly they are 
reprefented as infecting the Stars and Planets with 
malignant Influences, weakning the Light of the Sun, 
bringing down the Winter into the milder Regions of 
Nature, planting Winds and Storms in feveral Quarters 
of the Sky, lioring the Clouds with Thunder, and in 
fhort, perverting the whole frame of the Univerfe to 
the condition of its Criminal inhabitants. As this is 
a noble Incident in the Poem, the following Lines, in 
which we fee the Angels heaving up the Earth, and 



CRITICISM OF BOOK X. I2Q. 

placing it in a different poflure to the Sun from what it 
had before the Fall of Man, is conceived with that fublime 
Imagination which was fo peculiar to this great Author. 

• Some fay he bid his angels turn afcanfe 
The Poles of earth twice ten degrees and more 
From the Sun's Axle; they with labour pufli' d 
Oblique the Centrick Globe 

We are in the fecond place to confider the Infernal 
Agents under the View which Milto?i has given us of 
them in this Book. It is obferved by thofe who would 
fet forth the Greatnefs of Virgil's Plan, that he con- 
ducts his Reader thro' all the Parts of the Earth 
which were difcover'd in his time. Afia, Africk and 
Europe are the feveral Scenes of his Fable. The 
Plan of Milton's Poem is of an infinitely greater 
extent, and fills the Mind with many more aflonifhing 
Circumflances. Satan, having furrounded the Earth 
feven times, departs at length from Paradife. We 
afterwards [then] fee him fleering his Courfe among the 
Conflellations, and after having traverfed the whole 
Creation, purfuing his Voyage through the Chaos, and 
entering into his own Infernal Dominions. 

His firft appearance in the Affembly of Fallen Angels 
is work'd up with Circumflances which give a delight- 
ful Surprize to the Reader ; but there is no Incident 
in the whole Poem which does this more than the 
Transformation of the whole Audience, that follows 
the account their Leader gives them of his Expedition. 
The gradual change of Satan himfelf is defcribed after 
x Ovid's manner, and may vie with any of thofe cele- 
brated Transformations which are looked upon as the 
mofl beautiful parts in that Poet's Works. Milton 
never fails of improving his own Hints, and beftowing 
the lafl finifhing Touches to every Incident which is 
admitted into his Poem. The unexpected Hifs which 
rifes in this Epifode, the Dimenfions and Bulk of 
Satan fo much fuperior to thofe of the Infernal Spirits 
who lay under the fame Transformation, with the 

1 



13O CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 

annual Change which they are fuppofed to fuffer, are 
Inflances of this kind. The Beauty of the Diction is 
very remarkable in this whole Epifode, as I have 
obferved in the Sixth Paper of thefe my Remarks 
the great Judgment with which it was contrived. 

The Parts of Adam and Eve, or the Humane 
Perfons, come next under our Confideration. Milton's 
Art is no where more fhewn than in his conducting 
the parts of thefe our firfl Parents. The Repre- 
fentation he gives of them, without falfifying the Story, 
is wonderfully contrived to influence the Reader with 
Pity and Compaffion towards them. Tho' Adam in- 
volves the whole Species in Mifery, his Crime proceeds 
from a Weaknefs which every Man is inclin'd to 
pardon and commiferate, as it feems rather the frailty 
of Humane Nature, than of the Perfon who offended. 
Every one is apt to excufe a Fault which he himfelf 
might have fallen into. It was the Excefs of Love for 
Eve that ruined Adam and his Poflerity. I need not 
add, that the Author is juflified in this particular by 
many of the Fathers, and the mofl Orthodox Writers. 
Milton has by this means filled a great part of his 
Poem with that kind of Writing which the French 
Cri ticks call the Tender, and which is in a particular 
manner engaging to all forts of Readers. 

Adam and Eve, in the Book we are now confider- 
ing, are likewife drawn with fuch Sentiments as do 
not only intereft the Reader in their Afflictions, but 
raife in him the mofl melting Paffions of Humanity 
and Commiferation. When Adam fees the feveral 
Changes in Nature produced about him, he appears 
in a diforder of Mind fuitable to one who had forfeited 
both his Innocence and his Happinefs. He is filled 
with Horror, Remorfe, Defpair ; in the anguifh of his 
Heart he expoftulates with his Creator for giving [hav- 
ing given] him an unasked Exiflence. 

Did I requejl thee, Maker, from my Clay 
To mould me Man, did I folicit thee 
From darknefs to promote me, or here place 



CRITICISM OF BOOK X. I33 

Lz this delicious Garden ? as my will 

Concurred not to my being, 'twere but right 
And equal to reduce me to my duft, 
Defirous to refign, and render back 

All I received ■ 

He immediately after recovers from his Prefump- 
tion, owns his Doom to be juft, and begs that the 
Death which is threaten'd him may be inflicted on him. 

Why delays 

His hand to execute what his decree 
Fix' a on this day ? Why do I overlive, 

Why am I mock'd with Death, and lengthened out 
To Deathlefs pain ? how gladly would I meet 
Mortality my Sentence, and be earth 
Tnfenfible, how glad would lay me down 
As in my mothers lap ? there ftwuld I rejl 
And fleep fecure ; his dreadful voice no more 

Would thunder in my ears, no fear of worfe 
To me and to my off-fpring, would torment me 

With cruel expeclation. 

This whole Speech is full of the like Emotion, and 
varied with all thofe Sentiments which we mayfuppofe 
natural to a Mind fo broken and difturb'd. I muft 
not omit that generous Concern which our firft Father 
mows in it for his Pofterity, and which is fo proper to 
affect the Reader. 

Hide me from the face ' 

Of God, whom to behold was then my height 
Of Happinefs : yet well, if here would end 
The mifery, I deferv'd it, and would bear 
My own defer vings ; but this will not ferve; 
All that I eat, or drink, orfhall beget, 
Is propagated Curfe. O voice once heard 
Delightfully, encreafe and multiply, 
Now Death to hear ! 



-In me all 



Pofterity ftaitds curft : Fair Patrimony 
That I muft leave you, Sons ; O were I able 
To wafte it all my f elf and leave you none ! 



132 CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 

So difinherited how would you blefs 
Me now your curfe ! Ah, why ftwuld all Mankind 
For one Mans fault thus guiltlefs be condemn! d 
If guiltlcfs ? But from me zvhat can proceed 
But all corrupt 

Who can afterwards behold the Father of Mankind 
extended upon the Earth, uttering his Midnight Com- 
plaints, bewailing his Exiftence, and wifhing for Death, 
without fympathizing with him in his Diftrefs ? 
Thus Adam to hi in fclf lamented loud 
Through the fill night, not now, as ire man fell 
Wholefome and cool and mild, but with black Air 
Accompanied, with damps and dreadful gloom 
Which to his evil Confcicnce reprefeiited 
All things with double terrour : o?i the Ground 
OutftretcKd he lay, on the cold ground, and oft 
Curs\l his Creation, Death as oft accused 
Of tardy execution. 

The Part of Eve in this Book is no lefs paffionate, 
and apt to fway the Reader in her Favour. She is 
reprefented with great Tendernefs as approaching 
Adam, but is fpurn'd from him with a Spirit of 
Upbraiding and Indignation conformable to the 
Nature of Man, whofe Paflions had now gained the 
Dominion over him. The following Paffage, wherein 
flie is defcribed as renewing her Addreffes to him, 
with the whole Speech that follows it, have fomething 
in them exquifitely moving and pathetick. 
He aaded not, and from her turn'd: but Eve 
Not fo repulft, with tears that ceas' d not flowing 
And trejfes all diforder'd, at his Feet 
Fell humble, and einbracing them, bef ought 
His peace, and thus proceeding in her plaint. 

For fake me not thus Adam, 7vitnefs Heav'n 
What love fmcere and revrence in my heart 
I bear thee, and U7iweeti?ig have offended. 
Unhappily deceived; thy Suppliant 
I beg, and clafp thy knees ; bereave me not, 
Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 



CRITICISM OF BOOK X. I33 

Thy counfel in this utlermqft diflrefs, 

My only firength and flay : Forlorn of thee 

Whither JJiall I betake me, where jubfifl ? 

While yet we live fear ce onefhort hour perhaps, 
Between us two let there be peace, &c. 

Adam's Reconcilement to her is worked up in the 
fame Spirit of Tenciernefs. Eve afterwards propoies 
to her Hufband, in the Blindnefs of her Defpair, that 
to prevent their Guilt from defcending upon Pofterity 
they mould refolve to live Childlefs \ or, if that could 
not be done, that they mould feek their own Deaths 
by violent Methods. As thofe Sentiments naturally 
engage the Reader to regard the Mother of Mankind 
with more than ordinary Commiferation, they likewife 
contain a very fine Moral. The Refolution of dying v 
to end our Miferies does not mew fuch a degree of 
Magnanimity as a Refolution to bear them, and fub- 
mit to the Difpenfations of Providence. Our Author 
has therefore, with great Delicacy, reprelented Eve as 
entertaining this Thought, and Adam as difap- 
proving it. 

We are, in the laft place, to confider the Imaginary 
Perfons, or Sin and Death, who a 61 a large part in this 
Book. Such beautiful extended Allegories are cer- 
tainly fome of the fineft Compofitions of Genius ; 
but, as I have before obferved, are not agreeable to 
the Nature of an Heroic Poem. This of Sin and Death 
is very exquifite in its kind, if not confidered as a 
Part of fuch a Work. The Truths contained in it are 
fo clear and open that I {hall not lofe time in explain- 
ing them, but mall only obferve, that a Reader who 
knows the firength of the Englifli Tongue will be 
amazed to think how the Poet could find fuch apt 
Words and Phrafes to defcribe the A6lion[s] of thefe 
[thofe] two imaginary Perfons, and particularly in that 
Part where Death is exhibited as forming a Bridge over 
the Chaos : a Work fuitable to the Genius of Milton. 

Since the Subje6l I am upon gives me an Oppor- 
tunity of {peaking more at large of {uch Shadowy and 



134 CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 

imaginary Perfons as may be introduced into Heroic 
Poems, I mail beg leave to explain my felf on [in] a Mat- 
ter which is curious in its kind, and which none of the 
Criticks have treated of. It is certain Homer and 
Virgil are full of imaginary Perfons, who are very 
beautiful in Poetry when they are juft mown, without 
being engaged in any Series of Action. Homer in- 
deed reprefents Sleep as a Perfon, and afcribes a fhort 
Part to him in his Iliad ; but we muft confider that 
tho' we now regard fuch a Perfon as entirely Shadowy 
and unfubflantial, the Heathens made Statues of him, 
placed him in their Temples, and looked upon him as 
a real Deity. When Homer makes ufe of other fuch 
Allegorical Perfons it is only in fhort Expreffions, 
which convey an ordinary Thought to the Mind in the 
moil pleafmg manner, and may rather be looked upon 
as Poetical Phrafes than allegorical Defcriptions. 
Inflead of telling us that Men naturally fly when they 
are terrified, he introduces the Perfons of Flight and 
Fear, who he tells us are infeparable Companions. 
Inflead of faying that the Time was come when 
Apollo ought to have received his Recompence, he 
tells us that the Hours brought him his Reward. In- 
flead of defcribing the Effects which Minerva's sFgis 
produced in Battell, he tells us that the Brims of it 
were encompaffed by Terr our, Font, Difcord, Fury, 
Furfuit, Majfacre and Death. In the fame Figure of 
fpeaking he reprefents Viclory as following Diomedes ; 
Difcord as the Mother of Funerals and Mourning, 
Ve?ius as dreffed by the Graces, Bellona as wearing 
Terrour and Confternation like a Garment. I might 
give feveral other Inflances out of Homer, as well as a 
great many out of Virgil. Milton has likewife very 
often made ufe of the fame way of fpeaking, as where 
he tells us that Viclory fat on the right hand of the 
Mefliah, when he march'd forth again fl the Rebel 
Angels ; that at the rifmg of the Sun the Hours un- 
barr'd the Gates of Light; that Difcord was the 
Daughter of Sin. Of the fame nature are thofe Ex- 
preffions where defcribing the finging of the Nightin- 



CRITICISM OF BOOK X. 135 

gale, he adds, Silence was pleafed; and upon the 
Meffiah's bidding Peace to the Chaos, Confufion heard 
his voice. I might add innumerable other # Inflances 
of oui Poet's writing in this beautiful Figure. It 
is plain that thefe I have mentioned, in which 
Perfons of an imaginary Nature are introduced, 
are fuch fhort Allegories as are not defigned to 
be taken in the literal Senfe, but only to convey 
particular Circumftances to the Reader after an 
unufual and entertaining Manner. But when fuch 
Perfons are introduced as principal Aclors, and en- 
gaged in a Series of Adventures, they take too much 
upon them, and are by no means proper for an Heroic 
Poem, which ought to appear credible in its principal 
Parts. I cannot forbear therefore thinking that Sin 
and Death are as improper Agents in a Work of this 
Nature, as Strength and Violc?ice \NeccJJity\ in one of 
the Tragedies of Efchylus, who reprefented thofe two 
Perfons nailing down Prometheus to a Rock, for which 
he has been juftly cenfured by the greatefl Criticks. 1 
do not know any imaginary Perfon made ufe of in ^a 
more Sublime manner of thinking than that in one of 
the Prophets, who defcribing God as defcending from 
Heaven, and vifiting the Sins of Mankind, adds that 
dreadful Circumftance ; Before him went the Pejlilence. 
It is certain this imaginary Perfon might have been 
defcribed in all her purple Spots. The Fever might 
have march' d before her, Pain might have flood at her 
right Hand, Phrenzy on her left, and Death in her 
Rear. She might have been introduced as gliding 
down from the Tail of a Comet, or darted upon the 
Earth in a Flafh of Lightning : She might have 
tainted the Atmofphere with her Breath; the very 
glaring of her Eyes might have fcattered Infection. 
But I believe every Reader will think that in fuch 
Sublime Writings the mentioning of her as it is done 
in Scripture -has fomething in it more juft, as well as 
great, than all that the moil fanciful Poet could have 
bellowed upon her in the Richnefs of his Imagination. 



Numb. CCCLXIII. 

The SPECTATOR. 

-Crudelis ubique 




Lucius, ubique pernor, &* plurima Mortis Imago. Virg. 

{All Parts refoundwith Tumults, Plaints, and Fears \ 
And grifly Death infundry Shapes appears. 

Dryden.} 

Saturday, April 26. 17 12. 



\TLTON has fhewn a wonderful Art in de- 
I fcribing that variety of Paffions which arife 
in our firft Parents upon the breach of the 
Commandment that had been given them. 
We fee them gradually paffmg from the 
triumph of their Guilt thro' Remorfe, Shame, Defpair, 
Contrition, Prayer, and Hope, to a perfect and corn- 
pleat Repentance. At the end of the Tenth Book 
they are reprefented as proftrating themfelves upon 
the Ground, and watering the Earth with their Tears : 
To which the Poet joins this beautiful Circumftance, 
that they offer'd up their Penitential Prayers on the 
very place where their Judge appeared to them when 
he pronounced their Sentence. 

— They forthwith to the place 

Repairing, where hejudg'd them, projlrate fell 

Before him reverent, and both co7ifefs > d 

Humbly their faults, and pardon begg'd, with tears 

Watring the Ground 

[There is a Beauty of the fame kind in a tragedy of 
Sophocles, where Oedipus, after having put out his own 
Eyes, inflead of breaking his Neck from the Palace 
Battlements (which furnifhes fo elegant an Entertain- 
ment for our Englifh Audience) defires that he may be 
conducted to Mount Cithceron, in order to end his 
Life in that very Place where he was expofed in his 



CRITICISM OF BOOK XI. 137 

Infancy, and where he mould then have died, had the 
Will of his Parents been executed.] 

As the Author never fails to give a Poetical turn to 
his Sentiments, he defcribes in the beginning of this 
Book the Acceptance which thefe their Prayers met 
with, in a fhort Allegory form'd upon that beautiful 
Paffage in Holy Writ. And another Angel came a?id 
flood at the Altar, having a golden Cenfer ; and there was 
given unto him much incenfe, that hefhould offer it with 
the prayers of all Saints upon the Golden Altar, which 
■ was before the throne : And the fmoak of the incenfe 
which came with the Frayers of the Saints, afcended tip 
before God. 

To Heaven their prayers 

Flew up, nor mifs'd the way, by eiivious winds 
Blown vagabo?id or fruflrate : in they pafid 
Dimentionlefs through Heav'nly doors, then clad 
With incenfe, where the Golde?i Altar fumed, 
By their great interceffor, came infigJit 
Before the Father's throne 

We have the fame Thought expreffed a fecond time 
in the Interceffion of the Meffiah, which is conceived 
in very Emphatick Sentiments and Expreffions. 

Among the Poetical parts of Scripture which Milton 
has fo finely wrought into this part of his Narration, I 
mufl not omit that wherein Fzekiel fpeaking of the 
i\ngels who appeared to him in a Vifion, adds that 
every one had four faces, and that their whole bodies, 
and their backs, and their hands, and their wings were 
full of eyes round about. 

The Cohort bright 

Of watchful Cherubi?n; four faces each 

Had, like a double Janus, all their fhape 

Spangled with eyes- 

The affembling of all the Angels of Heaven to hear 
the Solemn Decree paffed upon Man is reprefented in 
very lively Ideas. The Almighty is here defcrib'd as 
remembring Mercy in the midft of Judgment, and 



138 CRITICISM OF BOOK XI. 

commanding Michael to deliver his Meffage in the 
mildeft terms, leafl the Spirit of Man, which was al- 
ready broken with the Senfe of his Guilt and Mifery, 
mould fail before him. 

Yet lea/I they faint 

At the fad Sentence rigor oufly urg'd, 

For I behold theni foftned and with tears 

Bewaili7ig their excefs, all terror hide. 

The Conference of Adam and Eve is full of moving 
Sentiments. Upon their going Abroad after the 
melancholy Night which they had paffed together, 
they difcover the Lion and the Eagle purfuing each 
of them their Prey towards the Eaflern Gates of Para- 
dife. There is a double Beauty in this Incident, not 
only as it prefents great and jufl Omens which are 
always agreeable in Poetry; but as it expreffes that 
Enmity which was now produced in the Animal Crea- 
tion. The Poet, to mew the like changes in Nature, 
as well as to grace his Fable with a noble Prodigy, re- 
prefents the Sun in an Eclipfe. This particular Inci- 
dent has likewife a fine effecl: upon the Imagination of 
the Reader, in regard to what follows : For, at the fame 
time that the Sun is under an Eclipfe, a bright Cloud 
defcends in the Weftern quarter of the Heavens, filled 
with an Hoft of Angels, and more luminous than the 
Sun it felf. The whole Theatre of Nature is darkned, 
that this glorious Machine may appear in all its luflre 
and magnificence. 

— Why in the Eafl 

Darknefs ere day's mid-courfe, and morning light 

More orient in that Weflern cloud that draws 

O'er the blue firmament a radiant white, 

And flow defcends, with fomething heav'nly fraught 7 
He err'd not; for by this the Heavenly bands 

Down from a Sky of Jafper lighted now, 

In Paradife, and on a Hill made halt; 

A glorious apparition 

I need not obferve how properly this Author, who 
always fuits his Parts to the Actors whom he intro- 



CRITICISM OF BOOK XT. I39 

duces, has employed Michael in the Expulfion of our 
firfl Parents from Paradife. The Arch-angel on this 
occafion neither appears in his proper Shape, nor in 
that familiar manner with which Raphael the fociable 
Spirit entertained the Father of Mankind before the 
Fall. His Perfon, his Port and Behaviour, are fuit- 
able to a Spirit of the higheft Rank, and exquihtely 
defcrib'd in the following Paffage. 

Tff Archangel foon drew nigh 

Not in his Jhape Celefiial; but as man 
Clad to meet man ; over his lucid ar?ns 
A 7nilitary vejl of purple flow 1 d 
Livelier than Melibaean, or the grain 
Of Sarra, worn by Kings and Heroes old 
In ti77ie of truce ; Iris had dipt the Wooff: 
His filarry helm, unbuckled, fihew'd him pri?ne 
In Manhood where Youth ended; by his fide 
As in a gliflring Zodiack hung the Sword, 
Satan' j dire dread, a?td in his hand the Spear. 
Adam bow'd low ; he kingly from his flate 
Inclined not, but his coming thus declared. 

Eve's Complaint upon hearing that fhe was to be 
removed from the Garden of Paradife is wonderfully 
beautiful. The Sentiments are not only proper to the 
Subject, but have fomething in them particularly foft 
and womaniih. 

Mufl I the?t leave thee, Paradife ? thus leave 
Thee, native Soil, thefe happy walks andfliades, 
Fit haunt of Gods ? Where I had hoped to fpend 
Quiet though fad the refpite of that day 
That mufl be mortal to us both. Ofiow'rs 
That never will in other Climate grow, 
My early vifitation, and my lafil 
At Even, which I bred up with tejider hand 
From the firfl opening bud, and gave you names 9 
Who nowfhall rear you to the Sun, or ra7ik 
Your tribes, and water from tH a7nbrofial fount ? 
Thee lafilly, Nuptial bowre, by me adorn" d 



HO CRITICISM OP BOOK XI. 

With what to fight or fmell was fweet ; from thee 
Howjhall I part, and whither wander down 
Into a lower world, to this objcure 
And wild, how JJiall we breath in other air 
Lefs pure, accuflom'd to immortal fruits ? 

Adam's Speech abounds with Thoughts which are 
equally moving, but of a more Mafculine and elevated 
Turn. Nothing can be conceived more Sublime and 
Poetical, than the following Paffage in it : 

This mofl afflicls me, that departing hence 

As from his face 1 filiall be hid, deprived 

His bleffed Count 'nance; here I could 'frequent^ 

With worjliip, place by place where he vouchfafed 

Prefence divine, and to my Sons relate; 

On this mount he appeared, tender this tree 

Stood vifible, among thefe Pines his voice 

I he fir d, here with him at this fountain talk'd : 

So many grateful Altars I would rear 

Of graffce turf, and pile up every Stone 

Of luflrefrom the brook, in memory, 

Or monument to ages, and thereon 

Offer fweet fuelling Gums and fruits and flowers ; 

In yonder nether world where fliall I feek 

His bright appearances, or footfleps trace ? 

For though I fled hi?n angry, yet recall' d 

To life prolong 'd and promifed race, I now 

Gladly behold though but his utmofl Skirts 

Of Glory, and far off his Steps adore. 

The Angel afterwards leads Adam to the higheft 
Mount of Paradife, and lays before him a whole He- 
mifphere, as a proper Stage for thofe Vifions which 
were to be reprefented on it. I have before obferved 
how the Plan of Milton's Poem is in many Particulars 
greater than that of the Iliad ox AZneid. Virgil's Hero, 
in the laft of thefe Poems, is entertained with a fight 
of all thofe who are to defcend from him ; but tho' 
that Epifode is juftly admired as one of the nobleft 



CRITICISM OF BOOK XI. , I4I 

Defigns in the whole ALneid, every one mufl allow 
that this of Milton is of a much higher Nature. Adam's 
Vifion is not confined to any particular Tribe of Man- 
kind, but extends to the whole Species. 

In this great Review, which Adam takes of all his 
Sons and Daughters, the firft Objects he is prefented 
with exhibit to him the Story of Cain and Abel, which 
is drawn together with much Clofenefs and Propriety 
of Expreffion. That Curiofity and natural Horror 
which arifes in Ada?n at the Sight of the firft dying 
Man is touched with great beauty. 

But have I now feen death, is this the way 
I muft return to ?iative dujl ? O Sight 
Of t err our foul and ugly to behold, 
Horrid to think, how horrible to feel ! 

The fecond Vifion fets before him the Image of 
Death in a great Variety of Appearances. The Angel, 
to give him a General Idea of thofe Effects, which his 
Guilt had brought upon his Pofterity, places before 
him a large Hofpital, or Lazar-houfe, fill'd with Per- 
fons lying under all kinds of Mortal Difeafes. How 
finely has the Poet told us that the fick Perfons lan- 
guifhed under Lingring and Incurable Diftempers by 
an apt and Judicious ufe of fuch Imaginary Beings, as 
thofe I mentioned in my laft Saturday's Paper. 

Dire was the t offing, deep the Groans, Defpair 
Tended the Sick, bufie front Couch to Couch ; 
And over them triumphant Death his dart 
Shook, but delayed to fir ike, though oft invoked 
With vows as their chief good and final hope. 

The Paffion which likewife rifes in Adam on this 
Occafion is very natural. 

Sight fo deform what Heart of rock could long 
Dry-efd behold ? Adam could not, but wept, 
Thd not of Woman born; Compaffion quelld 
. His befl of Man, and gave him up to tears. 



142 CRITICISM OF BOOK XL 

The Difcourfe between the Angel and Adam which 
follows,- abounds with noble Morals. 

As there is nothing more delightful in Poetry, than 
a Contrail and Oppofition of Incidents, the Author, 
after this melancholy profpect of Death and Sicknefs, 
raifes up a Scene of Mirth, Love and Jollity. The 
fecret Pleafure that fleals into Adam's Heart, as he is 
intent upon this Vifion, is imagined with great Deli- 
cacy. I mufl not omit the Defcription of the loofe 
Female troupe, who feduced the Sons of God as they 
are call'd in Scripture. 

For that fair female troupe thou faw'fl that feetrtd 
Of Goddejfes fo £ tithe, fo Smooth, fo Gay, 
Yet empty of all good wherein co?iffls 
Womans domeflick honour and chief prafe ; 
Bred o?ily a?id compleated to the tafle 
Of luflful appetence, to fing, to dance, 
To drefs, and troule the tongue, and roul the Eye, 
To ihefe that fob er race of Men, whofe lives 
Religious titled them the Sons of God, 
Shall yield up all their vertue, all their fame 
Ignobly, to the trai?is and to the f miles 

Of thofe fair Atheifls 

The next Vifion is of a quite contrary Nature, and 
filled with the Horrours of War. Ada?n, at the fight 
of it, melts into Tears, and breaks out in that paf- 
fionate Speech j 

Q w kat are thefe 

Deaths miniflers not Men, who thus deal death 
Inhicmanly to Men, and multiply 
Ten thoufandfold the Sin of hi7n who flew 
His Brother ; for of whom fuch Maffacre 
Make they but of their Brethren, men of men ? 
Milton, to keep up an agreeable variety in his 
Vifions, after having raifed in the Mind of his Reader 
the feveral Ideas of Terror which are conformable to 
the Defcription of War, paffes on to thofe fofter Images 
of Triumphs and Feftivals, in that Vifion of Lewdnefs 
and Luxury, which ufhers in the Flood. 



CRITICISM OF BOOK XI. 1 43 

As it is vifible, that the Poet had his Eye upon Ovid's 
account of the univerfal Deluge, the Reader may ob- 
ferve with how much Judgment he has avoided every 
thing that is redundant or puerile in the Latin Poet. 
We do not here fee the Wolf fwimming among the 
Sheep, nor any of thofe wanton Imaginations which 
Seneca has found fault with, as unbecoming this great 
Cataftrophe of Nature. If our Poet has imitated that 
Verfe in which Ovid tells us, that there was nothing 
but Sea, and that this Sea had no Shoar to it, he has 
not fet the Thought in fuch a light as to incur the Cen- 
fure which Criticks have paffed upon it. The latter 
part of that Verfe in Ovid is idle and fuperfluous ; but 
juft and beautiful in Milton. 

Ja7?ique mare 6° tellus nullum dif crimen habebant, 
Nil nifi pontus erat, deer ant quoque littoraponto. Ovid. 

Sea covered Sea, 

Sea without Shoar Milton. 

In Milton the former part of the Defcription does 
not foreflall the latter. How much more great and 
folemn on this occafion is that which follows in our 
Englijh Poet, 

• And in their palaces 

Where luxury late reigrid. Sea Monjlers whelp* d 
And StabVd 

than that in Ovid, where we are told, that the Sea 
Calfs lay in thofe places where the Goats were ufed to 
browze ? The Reader may find feveral other Parallel 
Paffages in the Latin and Englijh Defcription of the 
Deluge, wherein our Poet has vifibly the Advantage. 
The Sky's being over-chajged with Clouds, the de- 
fcending of the Rains, the rifmg of the Seas, and the 
appearance of the Rainbow, are fuch Defcriptions as 
every one mufl take notice of. The Circumflance 
relating to Paradife is fo finely imagined and fui table 
to the Opinions of many learned Authors, that I can- 
not forbear giving it a place in this Paper. 



144 CRITICISM OF BOOK XI. 

Then Jhall this mount 

Of Paradije by might of Waves be moved 

Out of 'his place, pufli } d by the horned flood, 

With all his verdure fpoiPd, and trees a drift 

Down the great river to the oftning Gulf 

And there take root an I/land fait and bare, 

The haunt of Seals and Ores, and Sea- Mews clang: 

The Tranfition which the Poet makes from the Virion 
of the Deluge, to the Concern it occafioned in Adam, is 
exquifitely graceful, and copied after Virgil, tho' the firft 
Thought it introduces is rather in the Spirit of Ovid. 

How didfl thou' grieve, then, Adam, to behold . 
The end of all thy Off-fpring, end fo fad, 
Depopulation ; thee another floud, 
Of tears and for row, a floud thee alfo drowrfd, 
And funk thee as thy Sons : Hill gently reared 
By th! Angel, on thy feet thoufloodfl at lafl, 
Though coi?ifortlefs, as when a father mourns 
His Children, all in view deflrofd at once. 

I have been the more particular in my Quotations 
out of the Eleventh Book of Paradife Lofl, becaufe it 
is not generally reckoned among the mofl mining 
.Books of this Poem. For which reafon, the Reader 
might be apt to overlook thofe many Paffages in it, 
which deferve our Admiration. The Eleventh and 
Twelfth are indeed built upon that fmgle Circumftance 
of the Removal of our firft Parents from Paradife ; 
but tho' this is not in it felf fo great a Subject as that 
in mofl of the foregoing Books, it is extended and 
diverfified with fo many furprizing Incidents and pleaf- 
ing Epifodes, that thefe two lafl Books can by no means 
be looked upon as unequal Parts of this divine Poem. 
I mufl further add, that had not Milton reprefented 
our firft Parents as driven out of Paradife, his Fall df 
Man would not have been compleat, and confequently 
his Action would have been imperfect;. 



Numb. CCCLXIX. 

THE SPECTATOR. 

Segnius irritant animos demijfa per aures 

Quam quce funt oculis fubj ecla fidelibus Hor. 

{ What we hear moves lefs than what we fee. 

Rofcommon.} 

Saturday ', May, 3. 17 12. 




^IZTOJV, after having reprefented in Vifion 
the Hiftory of Mankind to the Firft great 
Period of Nature, difpatches the remain- 
ing Part of it in Narration. He has de- 
vifed a very handfome Reafon for the 
Angel's proceeding with Adam after thh manner; 
tho' doubtlefs, the true Reafon was the difficulty 
which the Poet would have found to have N fhadowed 
out fo mixt and complicated a Story in vifible 
Objects. I could wifh, however, that the Author had 
done it, whatever Pains it might have cofl him. To 
give my Opinion freely, I think that the exhibiting 
Part of the Hiftory of Mankind in Vifion, and part in 
Narrative, is as if an Hiftory Painter mould put in 
Colours one half of his Subject, and write down the re- 
maining part of it. If Milton's Poem flags any where, it 
is in this Narration, where in fome places the Author has 
been fo attentive to his Divinity, that he has neglected 
his Poetry. The Narration, however, rifes very happily 
on feveral Occafions, where the Subject is capable of 
Poetical Ornaments, as particularly in the Confufion 
which he defcribes among the Builders of Babel, and 
in his fhort Sketch of the Plagues of Egypt. The 
Storm of Hail and Fire, with the Darknefs that over- 
fpread the Land for three Days, are defcribed with 
great Strength. The beautiful Paffage, which follows, 
is raifed upon noble Hints in Scripture. 

K 



146 CRITICISM OF BOOK XII. 

Thus with ten wounds 

The River-Dragon tanid at length fubmits 
To let his Sojourners deport, and oft 
Humbles hisjlubborn heart, but Jl ill as lee 
More horde/Id after thaw, till in his r 
Purfuing wham he late difmifs\L the Sea 
Swallows him with his ho/1, but them lets pafs 
As on dry land between two Chryflal walls, 
Avfdbythe rod of Motes and 

Divided 

The Rh • /> \ n is an Ailufion to the Crocodile, 
which inhabits the Nile, from whence Egypt derives 
her Plenty. This Ailufion is taken from that Sublime 
Paflage in 2 \ith the L d God } behold, I 

am againfl thee Pharaoh K ^gyptj ^ /i ' x r(,( ^ 

that tieth in themidfl of his Rivers^ which hath 
, :o/i, and I hare made it for 
Milton has given us another very noble and 
ie I >efcription, which is copied 
almoft Word for Word out ofthe Hiflory of M 
AH night he will purfue y but his approach 
1 ) - i . *fs 1 It ■ -. 1 till morning watch ; 

Then through the fiery pillar and the cloud 
God looking forth, will trouble all his hoafl, 
And craze their Chariot Wheels : wlien by command 
Mofes once more his potent Rod extends 

■ : th S ' h ■'< 1\ d obeys ; 
On their Emba tolled ranks t /(turn 
And overwhelm their J Tar: 

As the Principal Defign of this Iipifode was to give 
Adam an Idea of the Holy Pcrfon, who was to re in- 
flate Human Nature in that Happinefs and Perfection 
from which it had fallen, the Poet confines himfelf to the 
Line of Abraham, from whence the Mefftah was to De- 
fcend. The Angel is defcribed as feeing the Patriarch 
actually travelling towards the Land of Promife, which 
gives a particular Livelinefstothis part ofthe Narration. 

I fee him, but thou canfl not> with what faith 



CRITICISM OF BOOK XII. 14-7 

lie 'cares his Cods, his Friends, and [his] native Soil 
Ur^Chaldaea, paffingnow the Ford 
To Haran, after him a cumbrous /rain 
Of J fords and flocks, and numerous fcr-citudc ; 
Not wand* ring poor 9 but trufling all his wealth 
With God y who calVdhim, in a Land unknown. 
Canaan he now attains ; I fee his tents 
PiteKt about Se< hum, and the neighbouring plain 
Of Morch, there by promife fie receives 
Gift to f/is Progeny of all that Land ; 
From Hamath Northward to the Defart South ; 
(Things by their names 1 caff, though yet unnanfd.) 

As Virgirs Vifion in the sixth /Eneid prbbably gave 

Milton the Hint of this whole Epifode^ the laft lane is 

a Transition of that Verfe, where Ancfiifcs mentions 
the Names of Places, which they w ere to bear hereafter. 

Hi c turn nomina erunt, nunc funt fine nomine terror 

The Poet has very finely reprefented the Joy and Glad- 

nefs of Heart, which rifes in A dam upon li is Difcoveiy o( 
the Mefliah. As he fees his Day at a diflance through 
Types and Shadows, he rejoices in it ; but when he finds 
the Redemption of Man compleated,and Paradifezfpin 

renewed, he breaks forth in Rapture and Transport, 

goodnefs infinite, goodnefs inimenfe I 
That all this good of evil Jfiall produce. <\:c. 

1 have hinted, in my Sixth Paper on Milton, that an 
Heroic Poem, according to the Opinion of the bed 
Criticks, ought to end happily, and leave the Mind of 
the Reader, after having conducted it through many 
Doubts and Fears, Sorrows and Difquietudes, in a 
ftate of Tranquillity and Satisfaction. Milton's, Fable, 
which had fo many other Qualifications to recommend 
it. was deficient in this Particular. It is here there- 
fore, that the Poet has fhewn a moft exquifite Judg- 
ment, as well as the fin eft Invention, by finding out a 
Method to fupply this Natural Defect in his Subject. 
Accordingly he leaves the Adverfary of Mankind, in 



I4S CRITICISM OF BOOK XII. 

the laft View which he gives us of him, under the 
loweft State of Mortification and Difappointment. 
We fee him chewing Ames, grovelling in the Duft, 
and loaden with Supernumerary Pains and Torments. 
On the contrary, our two firfl Parents are comforted 
by Dreams and Vifions, cheared with Promifes of Sal- 
vation, and, in a manner, raifed to a greater Happi- 
nefs than that which they had forfeited : In fhort, Satan 
is reprefented miferable in the height of his Triumphs, 
and Adam triumphant in the height of Mifery. 

Milton's Poem ends very nobly. The laft Speeches 
of Adam and the Arch-angel are full of Moral and 
Inftrudtive Sentiments. The Sleep that fell upon Eve, 
and the effects it had in quieting the Diforders of her 
Mind, produces the fame kind of Confolation in the 
Reader, who cannot perufe the laft beautiful Speech 
which is afcrib'd to the Mother of Mankind, without 
a fecret Pleafure and Satisfaction. 

Whence thou rctumfl, and whither wentfl, I knoiu\ 
For God is alfo in Sleeps and dreams advife, 
Which he hat Ji fent propitious, fome great good 
Pre/aging, fince with Sorrow a?id Hearts diflrefs 
J! r earied I fell afleep : but now lead on ; 
In me is no delay : with thee to go 
Is to flay here; without thee here to flay 
Is to go hence unwilling ; thou to me 
Art all things under Heaven, all places thou 
Who for my wilful crime art banifltid hence. 
This further Confolation yet fecure 
I carry hence \ though all by me is lofl 
Such favour, I unworthy, am vouchfafd, 
By me the promifl d SeedfJiall all reflore. 

The following Lines wjiich conclude the Poem rife in 
a moft glorious blaze of Poetical Images and Expreffions. 

Heliodorus in his j&thiopicks acquaints us that the 
Motion of the Gods differs from that of Mortals, as 
the former do not ftir their Feet, nor proceed Step by 
Step, but Hide o'er the Surface of the Earth by an 



CRITICISM OF EOOK XII. I49 

uniform Swimming of the whole Body. The Reader 
may obferve with how Poetical a Defcription Milton 
has attributed the fame kind of Motion to the Angels 
who were to take Poffeffion of Paradije. 

So /pake our Mother Eve, and Adam heard 
Well pleas 'd, but anfwer'd not ; for now too nigh 
Tti Arch-angel flood, a7idfrom the other hill 
To their fix' dftation, all in bright array 
The Cherubim defended; on the ground 
Gliding meteorous, as evning mifl 
Pis 1 n from a River, o'er the mar ifJi glides. 
And gathers ground f of at the laborers heel 
Homeivard returning. High in Front advanced, 
The brandiftid Sword of God before them blaz'd 
Fierce as a Comet 

The Author helped his Invention in the following 
Paffage, by reflecting on the Behaviour of the Angel, 
who, in Holy Writ, has the Conduct of Lot and his 
Family. The Circumftances drawn from that Relation 
are very gracefully made ufe of on this Occafion. 

In either hand the haflning Angel caught 
Our lingering Parents, and to the Eaflem gate 
Led them direel ; and down the Cliff as fafl 
To the fubjecled plai?i ; then d if appeared. 
They looking back &c, ■ — 

The Profpecl [Scene] which our firft Parents are fur- 
prifed with upon their looking back on Pa?-adife, wonder- 
fully ftrikes the Reader's Imagination, as nothing can be 
more natural than the Tears theyfhedon that Occafion. 

They looking back, all tft Eaflem fide beheld 
Of Paradife, fo late their happy Seat, 
IVav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate 
With dreadful faces throng d and fiery Arms : 
Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped them f 0011; 
The world was all before them, where to chufe 
Their, place of reft, and providence their Guide : 

If I might prefume to offer at the fmalleft Alteration 



ISO CRITICISM OF BOOK XII. 

in this Divine Work, I fhould think the Poem would 
end better with the Paffage here quoted, than with the 
two Verfes which follow. 

They hand i?i hand with wandering Jleps and flow \ 

Through Eden took their fo lit ary way. 

Thefe two Verfes, though they have their Beauty, 
fall very much below the foregoing Paffage, and renew 
in the Mind of the Reader that Anguifh which was 
pretty well laid by that Consideration, 

The World was all before the?n, where to chufe 
Their place of reft, and providence their Guide. 

The number of Books in Paradife Loft is equal to 
thofe of the ^neid. Our Author in his Firft Edition 
had divided his Poem into ten Books, but afterwards 
broke the Seventh and the Eleventh each of them into 
two different Books, by the help of fome fmall Addi- 
tions. This fecond Divifion was made with great 
Judgment, as any one may fee who will be at the 
pains of examining it. It was not done for the fake 
of fuch a Chimerical Beauty as that of refembling 
Virgil in this particular, but for the more jufl and 
regular Difpofition of this great Work. 

Thofe who have read Boffu, and many of the 
Criticks who have written fmce his time, will not 
pardon me if I do not find out the particular Moral 
which is inculcated in Paradife Loft. Tho' I can by 
no means think with the lafl-mentioned French Author, 
that an Epic Writer firft of all pitches upon a certain 
Moral, as the Ground-work and Foundation of his 
Poem, and afterwards finds out a Story to it : I am, 
however, of Opinion, that no jufl Heroic Poem ever 
was, or can be made, from whence one great Moral 
may not be deduced. That which reigns in Milton is 
the moil univerfal and mod ufeful that can be 
imagined : it is in fhort this, that Obedience to the Will 
of God makes Men happy, and that Difobedience makes 
them 77iiferable. This is vifibly the Moral of the prin- 
cipal Fable which turns upon Adam and Eve, who 



THE MORAL OF 'PARADISE LOST.* I5I 

continued in Paradife while they kept the Command 
that was given them, and were driven out of it as foon 
as they had tranfgreffed. This is likewife the Moral 
of the principal Epifode, which fhews us how an innu- 
merable multitude of Angels fell from their State of 
Blifs, and were cafl into Hell upon their Difobedience. 
Befides this great Moral, which may be looked upon 
as the Soul of the Fable, there are an infinity of Under- 
Morals which are to be drawn from the feveral parts of 
the Poem, and which make this Work more ufeful and 
inftru6tive than any other Poem in any Language. 

Thofe who have criticifed on the Odyjfey, the Iliad, 
and ALneid, have taken a great deal of pains to fix the 
number of Months or Days contain'd in the Action of 
each of thofe Poems. If any one thinks it worth his while 
to examine this Particular in Milton, he will find that 
from Adam's firft Appearance in the Fourth Book, to his 
Expulfion from Paradife in the Twelfth, the Author 
reckons ten Days. As for that part of the Action which 
is defcribed in the three firft Books, as it does not pafs 
within the Regions of Nature, I have before obferv'd 
that it is not fubje6l to any Calculations of Time. 

I have now finifh'd my Obfervations on a Work 
which does an Honour to the Englijli Nation. I have 
taken a general View of it under thofe four Heads, the 
Fable, the Characters, the Sentiments and the Lan- 
guage, and made each of them the Subject of a par- 
ticular Paper. I have in the next place fpoken of the 
Cenfures which our Author may incur under each of 
thefe Heads, which I have confined to two Papers, 
tho' I might have enlarged the number, if I had been 
difpofed to dwell on fo ungrateful a Subje6l. I be- 
lieve, however, that the feverefl Reader will not find 
any little fault in Heroic Poetry, which this Author 
has fallen into, that does not come under one of thofe 
Heads among which I have diftributed his feveral 
Blemifhes. After having thus treated at large of 
Paradife Loft, I could not think it fufficient to have 
celebrated this Poem in the whole, without defend- 
ing to Particulars. I have therefore beftowed a 



152 CONCLUSION. 

Paper upon each Book, and endeavoured not only to 
fhew [prove] that the Poem is beautiful in general, but 
to point out its particular Beauties, and to determine 
wherein they confifl. I have endeavoured to fhew 
how fome Paffages are beautiful by being Sublime, 
others by being Soft, others by being Natural ; which 
of them are recommended by the Pafllon, which by 
the Moral, which by the Sentiment, and which by the 
Expreflion. I have [likewife] endeavoured to Ihew 
how the Genius of the Poet mines by a happy Inven- 
tion, a diflant Allufion, or a judicious Imitation ; how 
he has copied or improved Homer or Virgil, and raifed 
his own Imaginations by the ufe which he has made of 
feveral Poetical Paffages in Scripture. I might have in- 
ferted [alfo] feveral Paffages of Taffo, which our Author 
has likewife* imitated; but as I do not look upon Taffo 
to be a fufficient Voucher, I would not perplex my 
Reader with fuch Quotations, as might do more 
Honour to the Italian than the Englijh Poet. In 
fhort, I have endeavoured to particularize thofe innu- 
merable Kinds of Beauty, which it would be tedious to 
recapitulate, but which are effential to Poetry, and which 
may be met with in the Works of this great Author. 
Had I thought, at my nrft engaging in this Defign, that 
it would have led me to fo great a length, I believe I 
mould never have entered upon it ; but the kind Re- 
ception which it has met with among thofe whofe Judg- 
ments I have a Value for, as well as the uncommon 
Demands which my Bookfeller tells me has been made 
for thefe particular Difcourfes, give me no Reafon to 
repent of the Pains I have been at in compofmg them. 




i October 1870. 

Please oblige \ by showing this List to your friends. 

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[WILLIAM TYNDALE, assisted by WILLIAM ROY. 

The First printed English New Testament. , Cologne — Worms. 
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Milton 



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and st 
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London. [December 



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AN APOLOGIE FOR POETRIE. 

as and learned Sir 
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Seld< 

■ 



Ti i t 



~ 



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'1 be 

i 

: , l 

i 

l 

■ 

I 

i o. 



OGER ASCII \ 
lor th 



8. JOSEPH ADDISO 

i 

1 ' • 






L II 
>be, 

2 G 



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t.iinin^ his 

Count] 

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to the 

.. 
1 ! 

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18. THE REVELATION TO THE MONK 01 
EVESHAM. Here begynnyth a marvelous revelacion 
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monke of Euyshamme yn the days of Kynge Richard the 
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ts of Sir Yv INCIS Ba< 
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(1) REDEMEANDBE NOTT WROTHE* ' 

burg. 1527. This is his famous Satireon W 

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GENTLEMAN A XI) A HUSBANDMAN, 
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tine. By Sir Walter Raleigh. London, 15 , 

(2) The most Honorable Tragedie of Sir Richarde 

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[By GERVASE MARKHAM] London, i- 5. 

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23em» Cumrto. 

Will be ready, about March 187 1, iin one Volume, \2s. 6d. 

801. RICHARD EDEN. 

I. A treatyse OF THE NEWE INDIA, WITH 
OTHER NEW FOUND E L ANDES AND IS- 
LANDS, AS WELL EASTWARDE AS WEST 

WARDE, as they are knowen and found in these oure 
dayes, after the descripcion of Sebastian Munster, in his 
boke of vniuersall Cosmographie, &c [London, 1553.] 

II. The First English Collection of Voyages, Traffics, and Discoveries.— 

THE DECADES OF THE NEW WORLD OR 
WEST INDIA, &*c. &>c. [by Peter Martyr of Angleria.] 
[Translated, compiled, &c. by Richard Eden.] Londini, 

Anno 1555. 

1. The [Dedicatory] Epistle [to King Philip and Queen Mary.] 

2. Richard Eden to the Reader. 

3. The [1st, 2nd, and 3d only of the 8] Decades of the newe worlde or 
west India, Conteynyngthenauigations andconquestes of the Spanyardes, 
with the particular description of the moste ryche and large lands and 
Ilandes lately found e in the west Ocean perteynyng to the inheritance of 
the kinges of Spay ne. In the which the diligent reader may not only 
consyder what commoditie may hereby chaunce to the hole christian 
world in tyme to come, but also learne many secreates touchynge the 
lande, the sea, and the starres, very necessarie to be knowen to al such 
as shal attempte any nauigations, or otherwise haue delite to beholde 
the strange and woonderful woorkes of god and nature. Wrytten in the 
Latine tounge by. Peter Martyr of Angleria, and translated into 
Englysshe by Rycharde Eden. 

4. The Bull of Pope Alexander VI. in 1493, granting to the Spaniards 
'the Regions and Ilandes founde in the Weste Ocean' by them. 

5. The Historie of the West Indies by Gox^alo Fernandez Oviedo 
y Valdes. 

6. Of other notable things gathered out of dyuers autors. 

7. Of Moscouie and Cathay. 

8. Other notable thynges as touchynge the Indies [chiefly out of the 
books of Francisco Lopez de Gomara, ' and partly also out of the 
caade made by Sebastian Cabot.'] 

9. The Booke of Metals. 

10. The description of the two viages made owt of England into 
Guinea in Affricke [1553, 1554]. 

11. The maner of fyndynge the Longitude of regions. 

Index. 

. \ An abridged analysis of this voluminous work was issued in the 
previous catalogue (1 Dec. 1869); which will be found bound up with 
* English Reprints' issued during this year, 1870. 



i 4 ENGLISH REPRINTS. 

Imperial JToIicu 

1001. PETRU00IO UBALDINI— AUGUSTINE 
RYTHER. 

A Discourse concerning the Spanishe fleete inuadinge 
Englande in the yeare 1588 and ouerthrowne by her Maies- 
ties Nauie vnder the conduction of the Right-honorable the 
Lorde Charles Howarde highe Admirall of Englande : 
written in Italian by Petruccio Vbaldini citizen of Flor- 
ence, and translated for A. Ryther : vnto the which discourse 
are annexed certain tables expressinge the generall exploites, 
and conflictes had with the said fleete. 

These bookes with the tables belonginge to them are to 
be solde at the shoppe of A. Ryther, being a little from 
Leaden hall next to the Signe of the Tower. [1590.] 

The twelve Tables express the following subjects : — 
Frontispiece. 

I. The Spanish Armada coming into the Channel, opposite 
the Lizard; as it was first discovered. 

II. The Spanish Armada against Fowey, drawn up in the 
Form of a Half Moon ; The English Fleet pursuing. 

III. The First Engagement between the two Fleets. 
After which the English give chase to the Spaniards, who 
draw their ships into a ball. 

IV. De Valdez's Galleon springs her Foremast, and is taken 
by Sir Francis Drake. The Lord Admiral with the 'Bear' 
and the ' Mary Rose,' pursue the enemy, who sail in the 
form of a Half Moon. 

V. The Admiral's ship of the Guipuscoan Squadron having 
caught Fire, is taken by the English. The Armada con- 
tinues ITS COURSE, IN A HALF MOON ; UNTIL OFF THE ISLE OF 

Portland, where ensues the Second Engagement. 

VI. Some English ships attack the Spaniards to the West- 
ward. The Armada again drawing into a Ball, keeps on its 
course followed by the english. 

VII. The Third and the sharpest Fight between the two 
Fleets : off the Isle of Wight. 

VIII. The Armada sailing up Channel towards Calais ; the 
English Fleet following close. 

IX. The Spaniards at anchor off Calais. The Fireships 

APPROACHING. THE ENGLISH PREPARING TO PURSUE. 

X. The final battle. The Armada flying to the north- 
ward. The chief Galleass stranded near Calais. 

Large Map showing the Track of the Armada 
round the british isles. 

These plates, which are a most valuable and early representation of the Spanish 
Invasion, are being re-engraved in facsimile, and will be issued in the Spring of 1871, 
at the lowest feasible price : probably Half-a-Guinea. 

.*. Other works may follow. 



Annotated Reprints. 15 

By various Editors : under Mr. Arber's general supervision. 

Some Texts require the amplest elucidation aud illustration by Masters in 
special departments of knowledge. To recover and perpetuate such Works is to 
render the greatest service to Learning. With the aid of Scholars in special S7(b- 
j'ects, I hope to endow our readers with some knowledge of the Past, that is jiow quite 
o?et of their reach. While the Editors will be respoiisible both for Text and Illus- 
trations ; the 'works will be prodicced under my general oversight : so that tlie Anno- 
tated Reprints, tlioiigh of much sloiver growth, will more than equal in value tloe 
English Reprints. E. A. 



In the Spring of 1871 : in Fcp. 8vo the First Volume (to be completed in Four) of 

Cf;e ^a£ton Setters. 1422-1509. 

Edited by JAMES GAIRDNER, Esq., of the Public Record Office. 

EVERY one knows what a blank is the history of England during the Wars of 
of the two Roses. Amid the civil commotions, literature almost died out. 
The principal poetry of the period is that of Lydgate, the Monk of Bury. The prose 
is still more scanty. The monastic Chronicles are far less numerous than at earlier 
periods : and by the end of the Fifteenth Century they seem to have entirely ceased. 
Thus it has come to pass that less is known of this age than of any other in our 
history. In this general dearth of information recent historians like Lingard, Turner, 
Pauli, and Knight, who have treated of the reigns of Henry VI., Edward IV., &c, 
have found in The Paston Letters not only unrivalled illustration of the Social Life 
of England, but also most important information, at first hand, as to the Political 
Events of that time. So that the printed Correspondence is cited page after page 
in their several histories of this period. 

The Paston Letters have not however been half published. No literary use was made 
of them while accumulatingin the family muniment room. William, 2nd Earl of Yar- 
mouth, the last member of the family, having encumbered his inheritance, parted 
with all his property. The family letters came about 1728 into the hands of the dis- 
tinguished antiquary, Peter le Neve ; afterwards, by his marriage to Le Neve's 
widow, to his brother antiquary Martin of Palgrave ; on his death again, to a Mr. 
Worth, from whom they were acquired by Mr. afterwards Sir John Fenn. 

In 1787, Fenn published a small selection of the Letters in two volumes 4to ; of 
which the first edition having been sold off in a week, a second appeared in the course 
of the year. He then prepared a further selection, of which two volumes appeared 
in 1789 ; the fifth volume being published after his death, in 1823. 

Strangely enough, the Original Letters disappeared soon after their publication : 
and only those of the Fifth volume have, as yet, been recovered. There is no reason- 
able doubt that they still exist and will some dav be found. There is no necessity, 
however, to postpone a new edition indefinitely, until they are again brought to 
light: for a comparison of the Fifth volume with its originals establishes Sir John 
Fenn's general faithfulness as to the Text ; and therefore our present possession, in his 
Edition, of the contents of the missing Manuscripts. 

Three hundred and eighty-seven letters in all were published by Fenn : about 
Four hundred additional letters or documents, belonging to the same collection 
and which have never been published at all, will be included in the present edition. 

Not only will the Text be doubled in quantity ; but in its elucidation, it will have 
the benefit of Mr. Gairdner's concentrated study of this Correspondence for years 
past. Half his difficulty will be in the unravelling of the chronology of the Letters, 
partly from internal evidence, partly from the Public Records, and other sources. 
Fenn's chronology — for no fault of his — is excessively misleading. This was inevita- 
ble, from the difficulties of a first attempt, the state of historic criticism in his day, 
and the limited means then available for consulting the public records, &c. It is 
hoped, however, by restoring each Letter to its certain or approximate date, vastly 
to increase the interest of this Correspondence. In addition textual difficulties will 
be removed, and valuable biographical information afforded. 

The Letters of the reign of Henry VI. will form Vol. 1. (estimated at about 600 

I //.) : those of Edward IV"., Vols. 11. and 111. (together about 800 pp.) ; and those of 

Richard III. and Henry VII., Vol. iv. (about 300 pp.). The price will be about 

one shilling for every 100 pp. ; and the work, it is expected, will be completed in Two 

years. 



FOR GENERAL READERS.Ul 

V 

The undermentioned modernized texts are in 
preparation. Great care will be bestowed in their 
transformation into the spelling and punctuation of the 
present day : but the Originals will be adhered to as 
closely as possible. 

Lei s 7 ire Readings in English 
L it c rat ure. 

The object of the volumes that will appear under 
this general title, will be to afford Restful Reading ; 
and, at the same time, by exhibiting the wealth of 
thought and the wit in expression of our Old Authors ; 
to predispose to a further study of our Literature : in 
which study these Readings will serve as First Books. 

They will contain many excellent Poems and 
Passages that arc generally but very little known. 

Choice Books. 

THE DISASTROUS ENGLISH VOYAGE 
TO THE WEST INDIES IN 1568. 

Recounted in the Narratives of Sir JOHN HAW- 
KINS : and of David Ingram, Miles Phillips, 
and JOB HORTOP, survivors, who escaped through the 
American Indian tribes; or out of the clutches of the 
Inquisition; or from the galleys of the King of Spain 
and so at length came home to England. 
.*. Other works to follow. 

These works will be issued, beautifully printed and elegantly bound, **» 

in Crown 8vo. -^ 

The above is a specimen of the type, but not of the size of page. 



5 QUEEN SQUAEE, BLOOMSBUEY, LONDON, W.O. 



u 



I 



